


Never Too Broken

by heartsdesire456



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Adult Content, Angst, Consent Issues, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Married Couple, Post-Movie(s), Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-14
Updated: 2013-05-14
Packaged: 2017-12-11 20:30:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/802895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartsdesire456/pseuds/heartsdesire456
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Phil Coulson had been working with Clint for fifteen years when he died. </i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <i>Phil Coulson had been in a relationship with Clint for twelve years when he died.</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>Phil Coulson had been married to Clint for nine years when he died.</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>But Phil had only been dead for three months when an incompetent handler meant breaking the promise Clint had made to him all those years ago.</i></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>*see AN for detailed warnings*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Too Broken

**Author's Note:**

> NO CONSENT ISSUES BETWEEN MAIN PAIRING! All pairing interaction is entirely consensual.
> 
> TECHNICALLY it's consenting, but without spoilers, we'll say 'consent under heavy stress so it barely counts' is the most fitting.
> 
> Also, mild, passing references to suicide. Nothing serious. Nothing more, really, than what was in Avengers.

Clint Barton was an assassin. He was _not_ an infiltrator. He wasn’t the spy Natasha was. He used to never get put on missions that were outside of his specific skillset. His handler was competent and knew his strengths and weaknesses. Because of that, Clint Barton had never failed a mission.

It seemed that was about to change, though.

Clint’s mission was to get close enough to an arms dealer with sensitive information about a planned attack on villages in Algeria on his cell phone and take it. It should’ve been easy. It was somewhat within his skillset to pick pockets like a pro. He should’ve been able to sneak it out easily. He’d been chosen because he fit the man’s type, so his mission was simple: buy the mark a few drinks, lift the phone, make an excuse to go to the bathroom, then get out through the window.

However, the mark wasn’t drinking anything with alcohol so he was too vigilant and clear-minded, even with Clint’s flirting, for Clint to lift the phone from the inside pocket of his jacket. When the time came for his scheduled trip to the bathroom, he pressed his radio, calling in on his new handler. “Wu, I’m going to have to call the mission, ma’am,” he reported.

“Barton, you get the phone or you’ll be on report. This is a simple mission. There are a thousand ways you could get that phone-“

“He isn’t drinking. His phone is in the inside pocket of his jacket. I tried getting him to kiss me so I could slide a hand under his jacket, but he seems to be trying to stay professional out there. If I could just take him out-“

“Negative, Barton. You can’t blow your cover in this. They’ve all seen your face so if you lead him out back and kill him or even attack him, they’ll know you and we may need you later on,” she argued. There was a pause and she came back. “Here’s what you do. Seduce him, get him back to his hotel room, and then after, ‘accidentally’ put on his jacket on your way out.”

Clint’s stomach twisted, wrenching painfully in a way that he could only hope didn’t make him lose his lunch. “Negative. I cannot possibly sleep with a mark just to get a cell phone! You can’t ask me to do that!”

“Barton, the lives of hundreds of innocent civilians-“

“I _can’t_!” he hissed, pacing as his hands shook. “I cannot possibly-“

“We all have to do things we don’t want to, things we’re not proud of. You suck it up, think of the Algerian children you’re saving, do what you have to do, and then get over it,” she said fiercely. “It’s just sex. You kill people for a living, you can handle sex with someone.”

Clint’s heart was pounding and his hands were shaking in a way he hadn’t experienced in the field before. “You don’t understand, I literally can’t. I’ll break cover if I try.”

She growled in annoyance over the radio – entirely unprofessional, in Clint’s opinion – and broke in. “If it’s a matter of sexual orientation, deal with the identity crisis later. If it’s sexual dysfunction, distract him from the fact you can’t get it up for him. Use your imagination. You can work something out.”

Clint closed his eyes and swallowed hard, horrified to feel a lump growing in his throat. “Wu, I can’t. Please, don’t make me do this.”

She was silent for a moment. “Barton, if you’re in a relationship, you should’ve cleared it with SHIELD.”

He flinched. “I’m not currently in a relationship, but-“

“Then do this for the lives of innocent people, Barton!” she urged. “Look, I sympathize, but do you think you’re the first who ever had to do this? You are one of our best agents and you always do what you need to in the end. If you don’t do this, most likely hundreds of innocent villagers will die. SHIELD can’t do anything without those plans and you can get them. You are the only one who can at this point. There is no backup, Barton.”

Clint closed his eyes and took a few calming breaths to gather himself. He knew she was right. He was an agent of SHIELD. People did this sometimes. SHIELD tried to protect its people but sometimes shit happened. And she was right, it was this or risk the lives of innocent people. He knew, in the end, what he had to do. 

Clint took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay.”

~

Kissing another man’s lips felt wrong. Another man’s hands on his body felt even more wrong. Allowing a mark to strip him and being forced to reciprocate felt disgusting. Clint didn’t have the skills he needed to fake it, so he went for force. Kissing hard, biting hard, grabbing roughly, passing off discomfort as eagerness, covering his inability to get an erection by keeping them moving and shifting, it was how he coped with rolling around in bed with another man and it all felt _wrong_.

Letting another man inside of him felt like _betrayal_. He was glad the mark didn’t ask questions when he turned on his belly before the man could even suggest a position, because not only did it hide his lack of interest, but it also allowed him to hide the emotions he knew would bleed through in his features. 

Guilt at another man fucking him.

Disgust at an enemy using his body for pleasure.

But most of all Clint had to hide his pain.

Pain at the memories of a welcome, beautiful touch that was so different to this stranger. Pain at the knowledge that it was his fault that nobody else knew why asking him to fuck a mark so soon after – if at all – was the worst thing they could ask him to do. Pain at the memory of the last time he had made love to the man he loved. Pain at the knowledge that he was breaking a vow he had made nine years ago, the day he promised love, loyalty, and eternal commitment to the love of his life.

Pain that brought tears to his eyes and trembling into every limb – hopefully mistaken for pleasure by the mark – as Clint finally broke the most important promise he had ever made in his life.

Afterwards, when the mark was asleep, Clint dressed quickly and, as instructed, took the jacket and slipped it on as if he had accidentally grabbed the wrong one, leaving his behind. He didn’t bother trying to look like a smug one-night-stand doing the walk of shame. He couldn’t even imagine how someone could school the level of guilt he was feeling off of their face in his situation. When he got outside and walked down the block, he stopped and waited until, sure enough, a black van pulled up and stopped beside him. He climbed in and shrugged off the jacket, handing it and the phone to Wu with a stony expression.

She looked at him as he settled into the space next to her in the back, facing the monitors, and stared blankly ahead. “Look, mission over, just let it go,” she said without pity. “The life of a spy isn’t easy-“

“I’m officially requesting a new handler when we get back to base,” he said tightly, voice strained as he swallowed back bile. 

She sighed heavily. “Barton, aren’t you being a little overdramatic? I get it, that sucked. I know it had to suck. You aren’t trained for that, but you did what you had to do. You’re a good agent-“

“And a competent handler would’ve never asked that of me,” he said simply. “I’ll turn in my report to Director Fury directly and request a transfer then.”

“Barton-“

“Good luck with your next agent,” he said coldly.

~

Clint didn’t turn in his report until the following afternoon and he knew as soon as he walked into the office that the psych session he had the night before had been reported to him. The minute the door shut, Fury looked up.

“Barton, why the hell is psychiatric telling me you’re unfit for solo missions, unfit for infiltration, and demanding that you be given a new handler?” he demanded. “I want to know exactly what went wrong because, the way I see it, your mission was a success. You got the information we needed. We were able to get enough to take down an entire terrorist organization.” He narrowed his eye. “I’m very curious as to why my best assassin has been labeled a risk to missions by a shrink after a successful mission.”

Clint looked up from the floor as he stood at parade rest. “Would you like my written report now, sir?” he asked, holding it up. Fury nodded curtly and Clint dropped it on the desk, then stepped back into his previous attitude. He watched as Fury read and saw the way his face visibly darkened, his expression tightening until finally he closed the file and put it down.

“Barton, she didn’t know,” Fury began, but Clint cut him off.

“I still request a new handler, sir.” He cleared his throat, staring a head. “Dr. Martin feels it best to be given to someone who understands my abilities better anyways.”

Fury looked down at a letter, picking it up. “Dr. Martins says you should never be trusted with undercover work again, requests you not go on solo missions of any sort again, and also reminded me that you shouldn’t even be cleared for field duty.”

Clint shook his head. “With all due respect, sir, I’m a sniper. I am perfect at my job. I’m the best shot there is. I’m fit for that. I’m fit for shooting a target. I see better from a distance.” He swallowed hard. “And if I’m ever asked to do something like that again, I’ll resign. I’ll go off mission and resign.”

“Martin’s thinks you’re a risk to yourself if you aren’t accompanied by a partner,” Fury said, looking at the letter. “She thinks you are reckless, verging on suicidal in that recklessness. She says you aren’t likely to be actively suicidal, but that your regard for your own life in a mission is very low.”

Clint flinched. “I’m not suicidal, but I can see why she thinks that.”

Fury crossed his hands together, leaning back. “And why is that?”

Clint looked at him with narrowed eyes. “You know, sir.”

“Humor me,” Fury prompted, voice going softer.

Clint looked ahead again. “Gee, could it be that I have nothing to worry about coming home to,” he said sarcastically.

Fury glowered. “Barton, you’re out of line. You will not get a new handler, you will stick with Agent Wu-“

Clint shook his head. “No. I can’t. I cannot look her in the eye-“

“I’m not asking you to like her-“

“I CAN’T WORK WITH SOMEONE WHO WHORED A MARRIED MAN OUT FOR INFORMATION!” Clint shouted, not caring who he was yelling at.

“But you’re not!” Fury snapped, standing up. 

Clint’s muscles locked as he fought to not go across the desk and punch Fury in the face. “You bastard,” he snarled and Fury’s expression darkened.

“It’s just the reality, Barton. You aren’t a married man. You haven’t been for nearly three months now. You requested to be back in the field and you have to deal with the fact that you are a field operative for SHIELD. You do what you’re told. You came back knowing that you belong to SHIELD one-hundred percent. There may have been special measures before, but that ship sailed and I’m _sorry_ , Barton. Nobody is happy about it, but the fact of the matter is you are a single agent, nobody besides me, you, Dr. Martins, and Agent Romanov knows you were ever anything else besides single, and you cannot blame Agent Wu for her orders. You will report to her office tomorrow morning and apologize for trying to be reassigned-“

“Fuck you,” Clint barked, shaking his head. “Fuck SHIELD, fuck Wu, fuck all of you. You cold bastard,” he said, turning to walk out. “Fuck this.”

“BARTON!” Fury shouted. “I will overlook this insubordination because of emotional trauma-“

“Kiss my insubordinate ass!” Barton shouted as he slammed the door. In the office full of cubicles outside of the Director’s office, everyone was silent. People had terrified looks on their faces as they watched Clint storm past. Nobody had ever seen anyone shout at Director Fury. They clearly didn’t know how to handle anything that was happening. Clint didn’t even give a shit. He didn’t even stop to get anything of his as he pulled out his phone and walked right out of the building.

It rang twice before Stark’s voice came out. “The shit must’ve hit the fan if you’re calling me, Barton, so tell me now- is it aliens?”

Clint swallowed hard. “I never would ask this normally, but I need a place to stay right now. Tell me you’re in New York, not on vacation,” he said as he found his bike in the lot and climbed on, pulling his stashed helmet from behind the fake rock next to his parking space. 

Stark sounded confused. “Yeah, I’m at the tower now. Come on up. But really, aren’t you on Super Spy business?”

Clint laughed weakly, sitting on his bike with the helmet in his hand as he started the bike. “Actually wouldn’t be surprised if Fury is after me already. I’ll explain when I get there,” he said, hanging up and pulling on his helmet. He pushed down the visor and sped off, focusing on driving without crashing instead of focusing on his life crashing down around him.

Again.

~

Clint was led by JARVIS – which was seriously weird – up to the top of the tower to a floor that held offices small labs it seemed all over. When he got to the end of the short corridor, he found himself facing a locked set of double doors. “Uh, JARVIS?”

“I apologize sir, I had to confirm your permission with Mr. Stark,” the voice answered and then the doors clicked and opened.

Clint walked through them and found himself in one wide-open lab. At the far end, Stark was sitting at a giant array of screens. “Hawkeye!” Stark cried, jumping up to come meet him halfway. “Hey, buddy, didn’t think I’d be seeing you again so soon,” he greeted, shaking Clint’s hand. “Here for toys?” he asked, then frowned. “Wait, no, you said Fury was after you, what the hell, man?”

Clint smirked. “You’d have liked it, but I kind of told him to kiss my ass and walked out of SHIELD,” he said and Tony looked like Christmas had come early.

“I need that footage now, JARVIS?” Tony asked and Clint panicked slightly before JARVIS answered.

“I’m sorry, sir, but there are no cameras in Director Fury’s office.” Clint let out a sigh of relief.

Tony looked like a sullen child. “Well damn.” He shrugged. “Oh well, what was it about?” he asked, only to be interrupted by the door Clint had come through opening.

“Hey Tony, do you think you could work some electrical genius and speed up my visible light reader- Oh hey, Clint!” Clint turned to see none other than Dr. Banner walking in. “Didn’t know you were here.”

Clint frowned. “Didn’t know you were here either. I thought you went to Canada?” he asked in confusion.

Bruce shrugged, ruffling his hair reflexively. “I did, but then… well, the nerd in me kept thinking ‘Candy Land’ and I kinda couldn’t help it,” he said, giving Clint a bashful little smile that was insanely endearing for a man who could literally kill them all in two seconds if the desire arose. “What brings you around?”

Tony clapped his hands together, walking over. “Bruce, it’s amazing, Clint yelled at Fury and walked out on him!” he said, laying a hand on Bruce’s shoulder as he turned to face Clint. “Seriously, you came to the right place! Join us in our merry band of Fury-hating!” His manic smile was a little frightening.

Clint shifted uncomfortably and Bruce’s frown deepened. “What happened that was so bad you yelled at Fury?” he asked, then gestured to the little lounge area in the corner. They all walked over and Tony flopped onto the couch beside Bruce, whereas, Clint sat on the edge of the chair across from them, feeling way less at ease than Stark looked.

“It wasn’t-“ He shrugged as offhandedly as he could. “I just really hate my new handler. I requested a change of handler transfer and he refused. I got a bit upset.”

Stark looked interested. “Oh, you got a new handler? When did they do that? And why? Don’t spies and their handlers have to mesh well together? What was wrong with your old one?”

Clint felt a spike of protectiveness and couldn’t help his minor outburst. “Nothing was wrong with my old one, he was the best Agent SHIELD has ever had.”

Stark nodded. “Oh yeah? Was it Hill? Or somebody else I’d have heard of? Pretty sure I’ve annoyed all the best and brightest by now.”

Clint swallowed and looked down. “My old handler was Agent Coulson,” he said tightly. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Stark sit up and stop fidgeting.

“Phil was your handler?” Stark asked almost gruffly and Clint looked up in surprise at Phil’s name. He thought Stark always called him ‘Agent’. Phil had found it amusing. Stark shrugged, clearing his throat. “Phil was a great guy. You’re right, he was definitely the best agent SHIELD ever had.”

Clint didn’t even know Stark had apparently liked Phil enough to speak well of him. It wasn’t very Stark-like. “He was,” he said tightly, coughing some to keep his voice from breaking. “So yeah, it’s hard to live up, but my new handler is just incompetent.”

Bruce hadn’t known Phil, Clint knew that, but he still looked sympathetic. “How long had Coulson and you been together?” he asked and Clint didn’t have a chance to hide his cringe at Bruce’s wording. However, he was glad they took it as a sign of grief.

“We worked together for fifteen years,” he said and Bruce’s eyes widened.

Stark’s eyes closed down some. “Jesus, you guys must’ve been through a lot together. No wonder you’re having trouble with a new handler.”

Clint nodded. “First year, he was one of many Agents I was shipped around with, but nobody else would work with me, so Phil got stuck with me. He was such a badass nobody questioned him. I gave him shit for a while, but he turned out to be a good guy. I occasionally worked with other handlers, but for fourteen years he was my primary handler,” he said with a sad smile. “You can imagine why SHIELD is having trouble with me again.”

Tony leaned back again, slinging his arms along the back of the couch. “Well, you’re welcome to stay here. JARVIS, fix one of the rooms for him, yeah?”

“Yes, sir,” JARVIS answered promptly.

“I may need a while,” Clint warned and Tony flapped the hand that was behind Bruce’s head. 

“No worry, seriously. Bruce’s here for as long as he wants to be and it’s just us two. Thor said he’d be back to visit before too long, so it’ll be like getting the band back together, sort of.” Tony grinned. “We can party!”

Clint actually smiled and shook his head. “You’re not normal, Stark,” he said and Bruce nodded seriously, though his eyes showed mischief. “So wait, where’s your girl?” Clint asked. “Figured she’d be around too.”

Tony cringed dramatically. “Yeah, well, she’s around, she lives here still since she works here, just on a different floor.” She shrugged. “Apparently nearly dying three times is a limit or something. Can’t say I’ve ever been dumped before.”

Clint cringed. “Jesus, that’s shitty. Save the world and you don’t even get the girl,” he said and Tony chuckled softly.

“Well, to be fair, I had the girl, I just lost her.” He shrugged. “It isn’t so bad, though. We had a good run, we still love each other, we’re just better going back to being B-F-Fs,” he said with a smile. “Pepper’s all I had in my whole life for over a decade, would take more than breaking up to get rid of me.”

Bruce patted his leg before standing up. “In her defense, I think she’s about two flirts away from a much healthier relationship with your driver than she ever could’ve hoped for with you. Definitely ups her life expectancy.”

Tony flipped him off as he walked past. “Oh yeah, well I’m not the only single one Jolly Green!” he called, then grinned when Bruce left the lab. “I love that guy, he’s the coolest lab partner ever,” he explained to Clint, who laughed.

“Only you would be crazy enough to tease a live wire, Stark,” Clint said as he stood. “So, wanna show me where I can stay? 

~

Clint had only been with Stark for a day when Natasha showed up. He wasn’t surprised in that. However, he was surprised at Banner’s ability to not react when she dropped from the ceiling right behind Stark at his bar while Bruce and Clint were sitting in the living area talking to him across the gap. Stark, however, screamed and threw a bottle in the air. Natasha easily caught the bottle before it fell down and handed it back. “You scream like a girl, Stark,” she said, then circled around him and headed towards the couch. “Clint,” she said and he stood up just as she got to him and stopped only inches away. “I just got back and all I heard was how you lost it on Fury-“ She trailed off and raised an eyebrow. Clint swallowed hard and shrugged, then looked away. “Wu,” she said, then her eyes narrowed. “What did she…” Her eyes roved him and stopped on his neck. Clint flinched and turned his head, away from her eyes, only to cringe when she grabbed his chin and turned him back, reaching out to push his tee-shirt aside so that the bruise barely peeking out on his collar bone was visible. Natasha’s eyes widened and she pulled his face around. “No,” she said, and he swallowed hard, eyes darker. 

Natasha rarely showed emotions with anyone else around, but at that moment she ignored Stark and Banner and threw her arms around Clint’s neck, hugging him close. “Fucking bitch,” she spat, clinging to him for a moment while more curses poured from her lips in three different languages. “He made them promise I never had to, I can’t believe they would ever make you,” she whispered in his ear and in that moment, Clint’s walls broke.

He too didn’t even register anyone else in the room apart from Natasha as he finally let it go. “ _Tasha_ ” he whispered in a pained voice, face crumpling. He curled his arms around her and held her so tight he could feel her pulse against his hands. “Natasha,” he choked out, knees giving out. He pulled them both to the floor and Natasha shushed him, cradling his head against her neck. 

Natasha seemed more upset by Clint _crying_ in her arms than he had ever known her to be, but he also had never broken down on her, so he wasn’t surprised. She didn’t seem surprised by his breakdown either. She held him in silence for a little while before kissing his head and whispering, “Want me to kill her?” 

Clint broke into wet laughter, pulling back to smile. “No, it’s okay,” he said, pulling back to wipe at his face. “It’s over. She- she isn’t to blame-“

“Bullshit. SHIELD doesn’t do that if they can avoid it. And definitely not to _us_ ,” she said fiercely. “Come on,” she said, pulling him to his feet. “You need sleep,” she said, guiding him towards the elevator. He noticed that Banner and Stark had disappeared from the room and he could only be grateful they didn’t comment on his falling apart in front of them.

~

Clint dreamed about Phil. 

He dreamed about killing Phil. He dreamed about telling Loki where to find Phil. He dreamed about hurting Phil. He dreamed about Phil blaming him for Loki. He dreamed about every possible iteration of Phil and Loki that was plausible and some that weren’t.

And now he dreamed of Phil finding out Clint had slept with someone else so soon after Phil died. He dreamed of Phil hating him. He dreamed of Phil calling him a disgusting, cheating whore. He dreamed of Phil telling him he didn’t care because he had never loved him to begin with.

Worse still were the nice dreams. He would dream that it had all been a dream and Phil was alive. He would wake up, in his dream, to Phil curled around him. Phil’s arms holding him. Phil’s hand in his. Phil soothing him after the horrible nightmare in which Phil was taken from him in a reality where Phil was alive and well and waiting for Clint at home every night. Nothing was worse than waking up from a dream of Phil kissing him to sleep into the real version of reality in which Phil was dead. Because without Phil, real life hurt too much to breathe sometimes and Clint had to suffer through it. 

Natasha was still asleep next to him when Clint woke up after one such happy dream, so he took care sliding out of bed. He didn’t bother tucking the chain that held his and Phil’s wedding rings into his shirt as he left the room Stark had given him. He meant to go get a drink, but when he passed the window, a flash of lightening distracted him. The rain was pouring down and suddenly all he wanted was to feel it on his skin. He went up to the lounge and headed for the doors leading out onto the balcony and landing strip. When he walked outside, barefoot and in track pants and a tee-shirt, he closed his eyes, letting the cold, healing rain fall down on him.

He walked out onto the landing strip and stood with his arms out, letting the water soak him. The wind was vicious but he felt no fear. He closed his eyes and turned his face to the sky, letting the water soak him to the bone. It felt amazing. It hurt. It burned like fire and ice and it left him feeling _alive_. Clint started to feel clean for the first time since that man had first touched him in that hotel room almost an entire week ago now. He wanted so bad to feel clean.

“If you get blown off, I’m not jumping after you.” Clint startled slightly, turning back, eyes flying open to see Bruce walking towards him, equally undressed.

“Bruce?! Are you crazy, you could fall out here!” he shouted over the rain, walking halfway back to meet him.

Bruce shrugged. “I’d live. You wouldn’t,” he said. He looked at the rail-free sides and back at Clint. “So, what’s your play?” he asked calculatingly.

Clint flinched. “I’m not suicidal,” he said and Bruce nodded.

“Okay. But you know, if you are, I can relate,” he said. He sat down on the surface and nodded for Clint to follow him. Confused, Clint did, sitting cross-legged just in front of Bruce, close enough their knees nearly touched. “Clint, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want,” he started, hesitating before nodding at Clint’s chest. “But if you want to talk about those, I promise, nothing leaves this platform.”

Clint looked down at the rings on his chest and instinctively grabbed them. “Why should I believe you?” he asked thoughtlessly.

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Because self-hatred is something I’m good at and you’re competing with me, here.” He looked at his hand that clasped the rings. “Tony thinks you and Natasha are a thing, but I didn’t buy it. And now I buy it less.” He gave Clint the most heartfelt look of understanding. “You lost your wife, didn’t you? I’m going to assume to Loki.”

Clint flinched at the name, but swallowed hard. “Close enough,” he said, then looked up. “Tell me, Banner. Have you ever loved someone?”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I have. Most everybody has.”

Clint shook his head. “No, have you ever _loved_ someone. Have you ever had someone that you would die for. Someone you would kill for. Someone whose very existence made you happy to be alive? Have you ever been so in love with another human being that every single piece of you belonged to them and them alone? Down the last inch. Down to your every thought and belief and memory. All of it was theirs and you _wanted_ them to have every part of you because you wanted every part of them?” he asked hoarsely.

Bruce faltered. “I’m not sure. I thought I did, but now… I’m not sure.” He looked at Clint. “Before my accident, I was in love with a girl. I thought we would get married one day. I thought she was the most important person in the world. She was one of only two people who had ever cared about me in any way.” He shook his head with a small smile. “But looking back, I think I allowed for work to take too much of me to really say I know the love you are talking about.”

Clint nodded and laughed weakly. “I did. I still do,” he said, then let out a choked noise. “I had him for so long that I forgot what it was like to exist without him and I barely managed to breathe for the first few days,” he admitted.

Bruce tilted his head. “Him?”

Clint nodded. “He was the love of my life,” he admitted. “He was the first person to give a damn about me in so long. He gave so much to help me. And I loved him for it. I loved him so soon after meeting him. I loved him more than most people will ever know.” He let out a broken sob. “And then he was taken from me.” He put his face in his hands for a moment and looked up. “He was taken, and I thought it was my fault.”

Bruce nodded as understanding filled his eyes. “Agent Coulson’s death wasn’t your fault, Clint.”

“I know that,” Clint agreed, nodding. “I finally started to accept it and believe it, the shrink at SHIELD had finally got it into me that I wasn’t to blame and that bad things happen in our line of work. I was finally starting to accept it and then-“ He flinched. “Wu, she- God, Bruce, she put me on a mission I had no reason to be on.” Bruce watched with so little judgment in his eyes that Clint spilled the story without thinking. “She gave the order to seduce my mark. The lives of innocent people were on the line if I didn’t get the information I needed and my only option left was to sleep with him and I couldn’t- I couldn’t let entire villages die because of me, but-“

Bruce’s face twisted. “But you had been married,” he finished. “Jesus Clint, I’m so sorry,” he whispered. He shook his head, wet curls flopping some. “I know how bad that had to hurt and I’m so sorry. Putting you on that mission was so fucking wrong, how the hell could she-“

“Nobody knew I was married,” Clint answered ahead of him. He barked out an angry laugh. “I was married to my handler for nine years and two people knew. Two.”

“You were married for nine years?” Bruce asked, voice tight. “How long…”

Clint smiled sadly, looking down at their rings. “Twelve years.” He swallowed hard. “I loved him earlier. He was just… everything.” He smiled and gave a wet laugh as tears mingled with the rain on his face. “He was competent, and dangerous, and lethally professional. But he was also funny, and he was just as devoted to his agents as they were to him. He never left anybody behind. He never let there be collateral. He was loyal and those under him were loyal because if you worked for Phil Coulson, you know you had someone on your six at all times.” He laughed and smiled. “I’d made a reputation for being insubordinate, but Phil found it amusing. I’d make cracks and throw in some snark and he’d just bring out a retort of his own and that was that. He was the best agent and the best handler at SHIELD. But to me he was-“ Clint looked up with the most gut-wrenching mixture of heartbroken and happy on his face. “He was my best friend. And he was my family. He was home. He was everything good in my life. He gave me a chance and I gave him my heart. Two years of working together, three years of flirting mostly to see him react, and one day he gave me his heart as well.”

Clint looked down. “I spent three more years waiting for the other shoe to drop. I was flighty. I’d been fucked over and fucked up my whole life, so I knew he was too good to be true. I waited for him to get tired of me and move on with his life.” He held up the rings and smiled at Bruce. “Instead he married me.” He gave a heaving, half-choked sob. “And for nine years I had everything I could want. I got used to being happy. I’d never been so happy in my life. From birth until they died, my parents were shit. They didn’t care about me. Nobody at the orphanage cared. Nobody at the circus really cared either. My own fucking brother turned on me eventually, so I had never known anybody to stay loyal. I didn’t know what it was like to be loved before Phil and for nine years he made me get used to having a home and a husband and we had each other’s backs until-“ Clint looked up at the sky, pain etched into every line of his face. “Until Loki got me and I turned my back on him and in the time I was gone, he _died_ because nobody had his back.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Bruce whispered, and Clint let out a pained sound, looking up with angry eyes.

“Maybe that wasn’t, but last week I was all me and I let myself be talked into fucking another man,” he spat acridly. “I made a promise to myself that I’d never betray him the day I realized I loved him.” He clutched his rings. “I made a _vow_ the day I married him. Nine years ago. Nine years ago I promised to be faithful to him and only him and he’s dead for barely three months and I go and break that promise. He gave me everything I ever had and I _did that_ ,” he sobbed out angrily. “I did it on my own. I let myself be talked into sleeping with someone who isn’t my husband.”

Bruce shook his head. “Clint, the lives of innocent people was riding on it, of course you did it-“

“I SHOULDN’T HAVE BEEN THERE!” Clint cried angrily. “I was selfish and wanted to go back into the field so I didn’t tell psychiatric that Phil was my husband! They cleared me because I was selfish and I lied and if I’d been honest I’d have never been in that position! And even then, I should’ve thought about it. There were other ways. There are always other ways. SHIELD’s backups have backups! I was stupid and let Wu talk me into it because it was what was easiest for her. I shouldn’t have been there and I should’ve been smarter before agreeing.”

Bruce reached out and – much to Clint’s surprise – took his hands, holding them in his. “Clint, I know how this self-hatred works. Trust me when I say, nobody would blame you. Phil wouldn’t blame you. He would blame Wu for putting you there, but he would never blame you.”

Clint swallowed and glowered. “Yeah well we’ll never know what Phil would say because he’s _dead_ ,” he whispered darkly. “My husband is dead. He’s dead and he’s never coming back and I betrayed him-“ He saw Bruce open his mouth and pulled his hands away. “Shut up, I did! I betrayed him!” Clint began to cry, his shoulders slumping as the fight in his eyes left, leaving nothing but pain in its wake. “For twelve years - hell, longer, really, since I was in love with him and SHIELD isn’t exactly full of casual opportunities – nobody else touched me.” He took a weak breath between pained, tearful noises. “I knew when I kissed him that first time I never wanted to kiss anybody else. And for twelve years, nobody else touched me.” He faltered. “And then a week ago, barely three months since I lost him, I let someone _fuck me_ for a piece of fucking information.” He looked at Bruce. “What kind of husband am I?” he asked, looking absolutely broken. 

Bruce shook his head. “One who lost his heart and was fucked over by a spy organization.” He stood up and pulled Clint up without much warning, steadying him. “You had your heart broken. You had your world destroyed. You suffered something absolutely terrible, and because of that, you wanted to be distracted. Nobody can blame you for that. The only ones to blame are the bastards who put you in a position where using your body to get information was the ‘obvious’ choice. They are the ones who did this, not you. You did your job and nobody can blame you for it.” He pulled him close and turned to guide him inside. “Let’s go in before we both get blown off of here to our deaths.”

Clint laughed weakly. “You won’t die.”

Bruce shrugged. “But you will, so let me get you dry and warm.”

When they went to Bruce’s room, drying off and Clint taking some of Bruce’s clothes to wear, Clint looked up at Bruce as he handed him the wet clothes to hang in the bathroom. “Hey… do you really think that-“ Clint sighed. “Do you really think that Phil wouldn’t blame me if he knew what I did?”

Bruce shook his head, smiling sadly. “I didn’t know him, but the way everybody talks about him, I can guarantee he wouldn’t blame you. He’d be heartbroken you hurt so much, but that’s it. And maybe he would kill this Wu,” he added, making Clint smile tiredly.

“He’d definitely do that,” he said, fidgeting with his rings absently. “Look Bruce… thanks.” He cleared his throat. “I needed that.”

Bruce nodded, leaning against the doorframe. “Like I said, I get the feeling you and I can relate on a lot of things. I just know what self-hatred is like and I know how ill-placed it usually is. I don’t want you to end up as broken as I was.”

Clint smiled sadly. “Thank you.”

~

Coulson woke up and knew immediately from the smell that he was in a hospital. He pried his eyes open, startled to see a nurse standing beside his bed. He felt drowsy and unable to really move. He tried to speak, but only managed a strangled breath. This, however, caught her attention. She looked down from the chart and saw his eyes open. She did a double take, then turned to the screen beside her, checking it immediately. “Mr. Clarkson, can you hear me right now?” she asked, looking over at him as she pressed a button and a light flashed above it. He tried to respond and nothing happened. His heart-rate seemed to pick up and she turned to look at him. “Mr. Clarkson, it’s going to be alright, you’re safe.” He realized immediately something was in his mouth, but she caught his hand when he reached. “The doctor will be here soon. Most likely he’ll take out the ventilator tube. Just be calm, Mr. Clarkson.”

Phil couldn’t understand why she was calling him Clarkson. His name was _Coulson_. He glanced over to the left of his bed and was confused to see nobody there. He was surprised Clint and Natasha weren’t staying with him in shifts. They always had before. Then it hit him: when he died, Clint was being mind-controlled and the world was ending. He began to swim back out of consciousness before he could wait to find out anything more.

~

When Phil woke up again, he realized he could breathe on his own again. “Welcome back, Agent.” He looked up and saw Director Fury sitting beside his bed.

“Why am I here?” Phil asked hoarsely, throat raw from the tube that had been down it. “Where is here, by the way? Never saw this wallpaper at SHIELD.”

Fury chuckled. “Well, that’s because you’re not at a SHIELD facility.” He took a breath and leaned his elbows on his knees. “Look, Phil. You’re in a hospital in New Jersey. You’re under the identity Phil Clarkson.” He looked at him, narrowing his eye. “You remember that stupid ass stunt you pulled?”

Phil nodded. “How am I alive?”

“No fucking clue,” Fury said, shaking his head. “You died. But they were able to revive you and keep you going long enough to operate. The spear missed your heart by centimeters and shredded your lung. You lost one lobe entirely. You’ve been in a coma for three and a half months now.”

Phil swallowed hard, looking down at his body. “Did we win?” he asked as he tried to take in _three and a half months_.

Fury nodded. “We did. The Avengers took that ‘push’ of you dying and made it.” He glared. “You’re still a stupid ass for doing that.”

“What happened to him,” Phil asked, looking directly at Fury. He saw Fury hesitate and shook his head. “Don’t lie to me, Nick, and don’t sugarcoat it.”

“We got him back.” Phil let out a weak laugh, closing his eyes at Fury’s words.

“You- you got him back? How?” Phil asked, fighting a lump in his throat as he realized that they saved him. They _saved_ Clint from Loki.

Fury chortled. “Agent Romanov. Figures it would’ve been her,” he said, shaking his head in amusement. “Hit him really hard in the head. Knocked some wires loose and broke the connection so they could go fight the good fight.”

Phil smiled. “How hard did she hit you when she found out you were wrong about me dying?” he asked with a lazy grin. “Did you put her on report?” Fury’s uneasy expression made Phil’s smile slide off his face. “What is it, sir?”

“Phil,” Fury sighed, then rubbed a hand over his head. “They don’t know I was wrong.”

Phil’s heart stalled and then began to pound. “What do you mean they don’t know- You didn’t tell them I’m alive?!” he demanded, then turned a glare on Fury. “Wait, which ‘them’, Nick?” Fury didn’t speak and Phil reached out and grabbed for his wrist, glaring when Fury pulled away. “Tell me he knows.”

Fury shook his head and sat back. “There was no guarantee you would ever wake up-“

“You son of a bitch,” Phil said in a calm voice, though his eyes betrayed his anger.

“Look,” Fury argued. “Barton is the best shot SHIELD has. If he knew you were alive, I’d have never got him to leave this hospital room. And if you were going to never wake up, I wasn’t going to have the best sniper I’ve got withering away at someone’s bedside. SHIELD lost a lot of agents and had a lot of resignations. We’re still recovering and I made the call to retain what assets I have in the field-“

“In the field?! Clint was brainwashed and then his husband was murdered, you’re telling me psychiatric cleared him for field work already?” Phil asked incredulously. “Clint was barely clear for field work to begin with his psychiatric condition so fucked up from his childhood, you cannot tell me they cleared him.”

Fury looked ashamed. “He shouldn’t have been, but he didn’t tell them you were his husband and I didn’t bother correcting him because he wanted to get back in the field and I needed him out there.” He sighed heavily. “Look, Phil, if I knew what kind of shit he’d get stuck into I would’ve did the honest thing and had them reevaluate him. Instead, they let him out and we had no choice but to put him on infiltration and undercover missions-“

“Clint isn’t Natasha,” Phil corrected. “He can’t do undercover that well. He sees better from a distance-“

“And I learned that the hard way.” Fury looked up. “Phil, he’s gone off mission,” he admitted.

Phil tensed. “Where is he?”

“Staying with Stark, of all people,” Fury said and Phil raised an eyebrow. “Look, I can’t give details-“

“Nick-“

“Phil it’s an ongoing mission, I can’t,” Fury argued. “I’m only telling you this much because I’m being your friend right now.” He sat up. “Things went… south. Wu was assigned as his handler and she gave an order that has her on probation but because of the severity of what we needed, he did it anyhow. And then when he got back and requested a new handler, I refused. We’re too tight. I can’t reshuffle agents so soon after. When I refused he lost it,” he said and Phil groaned, raising a hand to cover his face. “Barton told me to ‘kiss his insubordinate ass’ and advised me to commit a certain act upon my person, then left without permission. That was nearly three weeks ago. He went to Stark, who it seems has talked Banner into sticking around, and they’ve got some little super hero frat house going on or something, the hell if I know,” Fury said, waving hand.

Phil laughed. “I knew one day if I wasn’t around, Clint would tell you to go fuck yourself,” he said, smiling sadly. “Tell me he’s at least okay.”

Fury cringed. “I really doubt it,” he said honestly. “Martins had a field day when the whole story came out of him in a session. And to compound that with the fact he’s took up with the two most fucked up men this side of the globe and took Agent Romanov with him, I’d be willing to be the level of mental problems in that building has Freud spinning in his grave.”

Phil reached up to rub absently at the scar on his chest as it twinged. “Fair warning, sir, but you might need a new eye patch when he finds out I’m alive.”

Fury cleared his throat. “I’m here to ask you to let us reassign you. For good. Under the identity you’re under now.”

Phil simply leveled him with a flat look. “Sir, unless you plan on killing me, I’d like to repeat my husband’s sentiments.”

Fury barked out a laugh. “You jackass,” he said, shaking his head. “Look, I’m not having you killed, but do you know what kind of trouble you coming back could cause?”

“Do you know how much I don’t care what trouble you got yourself into?” Phil countered. “You’re lucky I am ignoring the thoughts of how traumatized my specialists are going to be to find out I’m not dead this long after my supposed death. I may be incapacitated now, but one day I’ll be out of this bed, Nick,” he warned. “Contact Pepper Potts, have her set up a meeting with you at Stark Tower, personally go and inform them I’m alive. Give them the exact location of this hospital and let them do what they want. Don’t interfere. You owe them that,” he instructed.

Fury leaned back. “You’re giving ME orders now?”

Phil nodded. “Yes, sir I am,” he said simply, earning an amused look.

“Alright, but this mess is all on you,” Fury said, said, shaking his head. “You’re lucky I like you, Phil.”

“Thank you, sir,” Phil said lightly, though his eyes told how angry he really was.

~

After his big confession to Bruce, Clint found himself spending a lot of time he wasn’t with Natasha – since she had gone back to SHIELD like she was meant to – hanging around with Bruce. They never got so emotional and deep with purpose the way they had that first night, but Bruce’s presence was calming. His lab had less explosions than Stark’s, that was for damn sure. 

Clint was actually lounging up in the rafters above Bruce’s writing table, watching him do math. Bruce seemed to love math almost as much as Tony Stark loved ignoring the math and just sticking shit together and seeing what happened. Watching Bruce do math was oddly soothing. Clint had some idea it reminded him of how calming it was to lay on Phil’s couch in his office while he did paperwork. No talking, no need to interact, just a feeling of not being alone.

Clint was almost asleep when the door flew open and Stark cried, “Big Guy, we’ve got a pirate on the bridge!” Clint startled and nearly fell, managing to save it by making it look voluntary when he rolled off and landed on his feet on Bruce’s table. “Ah, Feathers!” Stark said, clapping. “You two, board room downstairs, Pepper has Fury in a meeting we’re meant to attend.

Clint frowned. “You sure he hasn’t come to kill me?” he asked.

“Nope, not sure why he’s here, but Natasha showed up and said to tell you to either come or she’ll come hurt you,” Stark said, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t tempt her.” He turned to head out, only to stop and spin on his heel. “You two spend a lot of time in here… alone.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Am I right?”

Bruce flushed and fumbled with his glasses. “Of course not- I- that’s entirely-“

Clint just smirked and slung an arm around Bruce’s shoulders, guiding him on ahead after he stopped. “Why, you want in? Didn’t know you swung that way, Stark,” he said, winking at him.

Stark snorted. “I swing every way, Barton. I swing ways that would make acrobats dizzy.”

Bruce looked vaguely disturbed. “Please tell me those ways don’t include farm animals.”

Clint laughed and let go of Bruce. “No, Stark, his lab is a nookie-free zone, as far as I know.”

Stark sighed dramatically. “Damn, my spy-on-nerd fantasies are dashed,” he said, shaking his head. “I was ready to grab the popcorn and take up a seat.”

“Who says _I_ swing that way?” Bruce asked, looking offended. “Besides, even if I liked guys, who would really just go assuming I’d seduce the hot guy in the tower with my math and reading glasses?”

Stark winked. “Your math is the sexiest part of you,” he said, holding the door for the other two. “Barton’s got the ass, but you have the brain.”

Bruce gave him a flat look. “Yes, because all the girls wanted the nerds in high school,” he droned.

Stark shrugged. “Wouldn’t know, didn’t go to high school. Barton?” he asked and Clint shook his head.

“Didn’t go to high school either,” he said, then snickered. “Although I have a feeling we had very different reasons for that.” He looked at Bruce. “What was high school like? Did you tell the drunk cheerleaders at the parties that you were a virgin just to get laid?”

Bruce made a face. “I really don’t want to know what kind of porn you saw that in,” he groaned. “High school was pretty much almost as bad as my early childhood,” he said, then gestured to himself. “You remember what I said about self-hatred? I tried to blow up my school, that’s how bad high school was,” he said and both Tony and Clint stopped walking and stared. He turned back and raised an eyebrow. “What? You both know I used to be suicidal,” he said simply.

“Jesus, Banner, talk about open and honest,” Clint said and Bruce smiled and shrugged timorously. 

“Tony suggested openness about my fucked up past would help me keep myself on the level so I’m kinda just letting shit go.” He ducked his head, then looked up through his bangs. “You guys should know what kind of person you’re living with, is all.”

Stark put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “It’s cool, just you know… warning about super serious things, alright?” He patted his arm. “And not in front of Pepper, she’ll hug you and offer you cookies or something,” he said, making a face. “Not me, if I said I was feeling a little depressed, she’d tell me to grow up, but you know, you have this whole ‘puppy’ thing.”

They fell back into step and Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Puppy thing, huh?”

Clint laughed. “Bruce, man, you have the puppy eyes and floppy puppy hair thing _down_. If you didn’t turn into a pissed off Shrek sometimes, you’d be the most harmless and innocent looking human being alive.”

Bruce made a face. “Pissed off Shrek, that’s a new one. I thought Stark had exhausted all the jokes that could be made.”

Stark laughed. “Nothing says we like you quite like teasing- oh hello.” They stopped to see Fury and Pepper coming towards them. “Popeye! Olive Oil!” he called and Bruce groaned.

“Mr. Stark,” Fury droned, glaring at him as best as a man with one eye could. 

The door between them opened and Natasha stuck her head out. “Can I suggest you bring the discussion inside? I’m curious to know what’s going on.”

They all gathered around the table in the conference room, watching as Fury paced behind Pepper. “Fury, what’s this about?” Stark asked tensely. “If it’s about Tweety, you’re not getting him back unless he wants to go,” he said and Clint felt oddly grateful

Fury chuckled. “I’m here about all of you, but yes, it is specifically about Barton. Mostly Barton and Romanov,” he said, and Natasha sat beside Clint, narrowing her eyes at him speculatively. “It’s like this,” he started. “Back when Loki took over, things happened. Things that made us have to take… difficult alternatives.” Clint tensed and looked away. Fury looked at his hands. “I had to make decisions I’m not proud of to get the results we needed at the time. And some of my calls affected people in ways that weren’t the most positive.” He looked up at Stark in particular. “I needed to give you all a push. I needed you all to get together as a team to end the attack. I had to make you angry.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “Forgive me, sir, but somehow I doubt you had anything to do with Loki brainwashing my partner and pissing me off. I doubt you had anything to do with the kindred spirits thing that made it possible for Stark to talk Banner into believing he could be a hero. Need I continue?” she asked flatly.

Fury stopped and put his hands behind his back. “You and Barton had a vendetta against Loki. Banner had a need to seek redemption. Thor had the need to take responsibility for his family.” He looked at Stark. “You and Rogers, however, were loose cannons with no drive. You were fighting and at each other’s throats. Neither of you wanted anything to do with it and we needed his leadership and your need to do good or none of the others would’ve been enough.” He squared his shoulders. “We needed an emotional push.”

Stark cringed. “And you got it because of Loki. He killed my friend in cold blood-“ Clint flinched and Natasha grabbed his knee under the table. “You had nothing to do with that, sir. Nothing besides delivering the news.”

Fury nodded. “And sometimes, let’s just say the truth twists a little along the way.”

Natasha tensed and her nails dug into Clint’s knee. “What does that mean?”

Fury sighed. “I lied about what happened to Agent Coulson. I brushed over the details of his encounter with Loki to get the results I wanted. I manipulated the data, so to speak.”

Clint lifted his head. “What does that _mean_?” he demanded, his breath growing shallow.

“What it means, is that while Phil Coulson did ‘die’, he didn’t stay that way,” Fury admitted.

“What?!” Pepper cried, looking up at him. “What are you saying, what even-“

Fury cut her off, eyes on Clint. “Phil Coulson has been in a coma since he was resuscitated – which he was four times along the transference to a ground hospital to get him stable enough for surgery – in a hospital in New Jersey under the name Phil Clarkson and two days ago, he woke up.”

Clint was out of his chair in a second. “You son of a bitch, you SON OF A BITCH-“

Natasha grabbed him around the throat with her arm and slammed him face first on the table. “CLINT!” she cried, pinning him. “If you hurt the Director, you’ll never see him,” she said, flipping her hair out of her eyes to look over at Stark. “Hand here? He’s nearly as good as I am,” she said, struggling to hold Clint down.

Stark just looked confused. “Look, I get wanting to hurt Fury over this, Phil was my friend and that’s not a word I throw around lightly, but… what the hell?” he asked, looking around the room, gesturing to Clint, who was still struggling. His eyes landed on Bruce and he tensed. “Uh, Buddy?”

Bruce looked livid. “I think I need you to come lock me up, Tony,” he said, carefully standing up. “I’m not sure, I think I’m fine, but until Fury’s gone…”

Tony jumped up. “Sure thing, let’s go,” he said, circling the table quickly. He nodded to Pepper. “I expect the full story later,” he said, taking Bruce’s elbow to lead him out. “Alright, one Hulk Safe room coming up! Let’s go!”

Pepper stood up and faced off to Fury, hands on her hips. “What you’re saying is that you lied about my friend being dead for _three months_?!” she demanded. “And what the hell was he to them if they’re reacting so violently?” she asked, gesturing to Clint and Natasha.

Fury looked slightly guilty when Pepper glared at him. “It’s entirely possible that Agent Coulson had a husband. Has a husband,” he corrected, and Pepper looked at Clint, who was still fighting with Natasha, trying to throw her off so he could get to Fury.

“So, you think you should maybe run away now?” Pepper suggested. “I don’t know about him, but if I’d been told my husband was dead for three months and then find out he wasn’t, I’d probably shoot the messenger and I don’t even have a gun.”

Fury just huffed and walked past her. “Grovehill Memorial, Barton. He wants to see you ASAP,” he said simply, strolling out like he hadn’t dropped a bomb on everyone.

~

Tony and Bruce were waiting when Clint and Natasha got back. Clint had a cut under his eye and Natasha had a split lip. “Did Natasha have to kick your ass to stop you from murdering your boss?” Tony asked.

“Don’t,” Bruce said, shaking his head.

Natasha cleared her throat. “You good now, Banner?”

He nodded. “Just got a little rage-y,” he said, looking at Clint. “Clint?”

Clint swallowed hard, clearing his throat. “If I’d had a gun, you’d have your lab to yourself again,” he said simply.

Bruce looked at him hard. “You need me to come let you talk in the lab?” he asked and Tony and Natasha both gave him surprised looks.

Clint shook his head. “No.”

Tony held up a hand. “Okay, I don’t like feeling left out. Talk. Now please!”

Clint walked to him. “I need a car. Now,” he said simply. 

Tony stood and nodded. “Sure, you can come with me, we’re all going to see Agent, but I want to know what I don’t know that they all do.

Clint narrowed his eyes. “Fair warning, I’ll kill you before you can get a laugh out,” he started, and Tony nodded. Clint reached under his tee-shirt and pulled his chain and rings out. “Phil is my husband.”

Tony’s jaw dropped. “Holy shit, Fury really did almost die today, didn’t he?” He nodded. “Alright, everybody to the garage, we’re going to Jersey.”

Bruce chuckled. “Great job, gang, time for a field trip,” he joked and Tony smirked.

“You’re my favorite,” he said, then pointed at the elevator. “Now come on, kids, don’t make me turn the car around before we get out the driveway!”

~

Clint left the others to deal with getting in to visit Phil and snuck in on his own. When he got to the room with a piece of paper marked ‘P. Clarkson’ he hesitated. His husband was in there. The husband who had been in a coma for three months. The husband who had only learned two days ago that Clint had survived. He was scared of how Phil might look after three months in a hospital bed. He was scared of seeing the strongest and most vibrant man he’d ever known looking feeble. But in the end, he was excited more than anything because Phil was in there and Clint was about to see him when he had never thought he’d lay eyes on him again.

With a deep breath, Clint opened the door.

~

Phil heard the door open and he opened his eyes, instantly alert. He reached for the sidearm that wasn’t there reflexively, only to have his breath catch when he saw the person stepping into the room. “Clint,” he whispered.

Clint’s eyes met him and in that gaze he saw fear. “Phil?” he whispered, closing the door behind him. He stared and Phil chuckled.

“I’m okay,” he said, and Clint immediately snapped out of it. He crossed the room so fast that Phil blinked and Clint was suddenly at his side.

“ _Phil_ ,” Clint whimpered, leaning over him. “Oh God, oh God it’s you.” He reached out hesitantly, swallowing hard, hand lingering in the air.

Phil looked at his hand, then raised an eyebrow. “Problem?”

Clint’s eyes shut and his brow furrowed. “What if I’m dreaming again?”

Phil reached up and met his hand in the air, sliding their fingers together. “You’re not,” he promised, terrified of how fragile Clint looked. For once, the ache in his chest wasn’t at all related to his injury. “Clint, come here,” he murmured, tugging until Clint opened his eyes, breath catching in his throat. He looked into those blue eyes he knew so well and smiled. “It’s okay, Clint.”

Clint seemed to crumble. “ _Phil_ ,” he nearly squeaked, leaning over to cup Phil’s cheek in his hand. “Please don’t be a dream. Please, I can’t take another one,” he pleaded, squeezing Phil’s hand so hard it hurt and holding his face like it was his only link to reality. “I can’t do it again. I can’t wake up and lose you again-“

“I’m here, I’m really here,” Phil soothed, blinking hard as he watched a tear sip down Clint’s face. “This isn’t a dream, I promise.”

“You always say that,” Clint argued.

Phil tugged at Clint and wiggled to the side. “Come here,” he said and Clint shook his head.

“No, I don’t want to hurt you-“

“Barton,” Phil said sternly, giving him a small smile when Clint looked up in surprise. “Come here.”

Clint smiled uneasily but nodded. “Yes, sir.” He carefully laid in the space beside Phil. “Are you sure, I’m not hurting-“

“I’ve been healing for three months, it’s more stiff than anything,” Phil said, shifting so that he was lying on his side facing Clint. “Look at me,” he whispered, reaching out to cup Clint’s face in his hand. “I’m here. This is real. I promise, I’m not a dream.”

Clint nodded, biting his lip. “God, Phil, you can’t imagine- I don’t even-“ Clint laughed and shook his head, a bright smile spreading across his face. “I don’t know what to say. You’re here and you’re alive and I thought every single day about what I’d say if I had just one more minute with you, and now I can’t think of any of it.”

Phil stroked his cheek, then leaned in and pressed their foreheads together, his hand sliding to Clint’s neck. “How does ‘I love you and I would’ve murdered Nick the second he told me you didn’t know I was alive’ sound? That’s all I’ve been thinking since I woke up and he told me the truth.”

Clint laughed and closed his eyes, resting his hand on Phil’s cheek, enjoying the feeling of Phil’s forehead against his. “That’s why I have the shiner. Natasha had to kick my ass to stop me from killing him.” He opened his eyes, looking into the gray eyes he never thought he’d see again. “Hey, I haven’t said ‘I missed you’ yet,” he said, smiling sadly.

Phil shook his head minutely. “You should’ve never had to miss me, Clint.” He slid his thumb along Clint’s jaw. “Fury said you’d gone off the deep end. Tell me you didn’t try to hurt yourself.”

Clint shook his head. “They kept calling me suicidal, but I wasn’t. I admit, I was reckless, but I didn’t have a voice in my ear telling me to tone it down and I just got carried away.” He laughed weakly. “I’ve missed your voice so much,” he croaked out. He looked into Phil’s eyes and let out a shaky breath. “I never told you, but I fell in love with your voice. I heard it more than I ever saw you at the beginning and I loved every word that came over the radio. Even when I couldn’t touch you, I could hear you. Always.” His face screwed up. “And then- then I couldn’t anymore.”

“You can hear me now,” Phil said. “And you can feel me too,” he added as he tipped Clint’s chin and kissed him. Clint whimpered, nails scraping at Phil’s jaw as they kissed. It was gentle, and chaste, Phil wasn’t really able to do much more, and yet it was the most perfect kiss Clint had ever experienced.

Because he had lost Phil, and now three months after the worst thing that could’ve ever happened to him, Clint was kissing Phil when he never thought he would kiss his husband again.

Of course, Clint wasn’t even surprised when, at that moment, the door opened. “Well hello, Agent- Eww, Tweety! He’s injured, keep it in your pants!”

Phil groaned and dropped his head to the pillow. “Why is it Stark? Why? Who did I piss off?”

“Seriously, it’s like walking in on your parents,” Tony continued only to yelp suddenly. “Ow!”

Phil shifted to look at the group that entered, but Clint just moved to lay his head on Phil’s chest, sliding laying his hand on Phil’s middle as he closed his eyes and listened to Phil’s heartbeat.

It was almost as beautiful as Phil’s voice.

~

Clint was still asleep lying curled around Phil when everybody else got ready to leave. Tony opened his mouth and started to wake him, but Bruce waved him off. “He could use the sleep. He never sleeps,” he said, then gestured for Tony to go ahead. “I’ll catch up.”

Tony shrugged. “Whatever, I’ll let you tell Phil that you stole his man to be your pet parakeet,” he teased, stopping at the door to give Phil a mocking salute. “Thanks for not being dead, Agent.”

Phil laughed softly when he left and turned to Bruce. “Dr. Banner. Something you want to say?” he asked lightly.

Bruce hesitated, looking down at his hands. “Look, I know you’re the one who just got out of a coma but Clint- well he really needs you right now,” he said and Phil raised an eyebrow. Bruce shrugged. “He was doing okay, relatively, but after the shock of finding out you aren’t dead, I’m pretty sure he’s gonna regress a lot. And it’s only been a little while since we’ve been living with him, but since he showed up he opened up to me some, so since you’re alive and you can help him better than I ever could, I feel it’s my responsibility to let you know he’s really not okay.” He winced. “He’s so far from okay, Phil. Everything he’s been through… And then I’m sure he’ll tell you what went down to make him leave SHIELD, but it wasn’t good. The night he opened up to me, the night we started to become friends, I honestly don’t know if he wasn’t going to jump,” he said and Phil tensed.

“He informed me that he’s not suicidal,” he said and Bruce nodded.

“Maybe he’s not. That’s good, if he told you that maybe it’s true,” he said, looking ever so slightly relieved. “But the point remains that he feels comfortable with me because we have a lot in common.” Bruce chuckled humorlessly. “It’s never good to have something in common with me. Neither of us went into details, but I have a feeling we had similar pasts in certain ways and that’s the last thing I ever wanted to hear from another person.” Bruce smiled gently. “I’d be glad you were alive anyhow, cause you seem like a great guy, but as I’ve recently found a friend in Barton, I am extremely glad for him that you’re alive.”

Phil smiled and nodded. “Thank you for looking out for him, Dr. Banner.” He looked down at Clint asleep on his shoulder. “If he trusted you even the slightest, you must be a great man.”

Bruce nodded and smiled bashfully. “You’re welcome,” he said, waving silently as he let himself out. 

Phil sighed and laid his cheek against Clint’s head. “What have they done to you?” he whispered, curling his good arm around Clint’s waist.

~

Clint didn’t leave the hospital again. He had people bring him clothes, he showered in the bathroom in Phil’s hospital room, and he ate in the cafeteria. Phil’s doctor explained that Phil was physically mostly healed after the through-and-through skewering – it had been explained as a car accident – and even with the lobectomy, he would probably be able to continue life without much having changed. Even when Phil explained he was a very athletic man (instead of telling him he did secret agent training) the doctor said he would probably be able to be reasonably athletic again in the future. Phil figured it was enough that he would probably be able to work in the field again since most of his field work involved sitting in a van to run ops, and actually having to do strenuous things was occasional and in extreme situations. 

However, having been in a coma for three months and on a partially assistant ventilator to make sure he didn’t develop pneumonia, it would take a while before he could even take the stairs again. The physical therapist, a surprisingly large and brash woman named Mary, allowed Clint to stick around when Phil began physical therapy because, in her own not-so-professional opinion, “Anybody with a gorgeous thing like you waiting to take them home can keep motivated by taking one look at that face.”

Needless to say, Clint found her hilarious. Phil didn’t want to admit it, but Clint knew he liked her too.

It took a whole week before Phil was able to walk a full circuit of the floor they were on, which Mary said was actually pretty great for someone who hadn’t as much as sat up for three months. “Think about it like this,” Clint said, holding Phil’s hand as they walked with Mary following with a wheelchair. “You’re forty-eight, if you weren’t so active before, you could be still working on standing up.”

Phil chuckled. “Pretty sure I haven’t felt this weak since I was twelve years old and got my ass kicked at school and was stuck with a broken ankle.”

Clint squeezed his hand. “You’re a very active man, you’ll be as good as a man your age could ever hope to be soon.”

“He ain’t wrong, Baby,” Mary said. “SO many people your age are having heart attacks already. You were in a bed for three months and you’re already up and walking. Not sure I’ve ever had a patient so healthy before.”

Clint grinned. “Somebody always eats his Wheaties,” he teased and Phil rolled his eyes.

“I’ve never eaten Wheaties in my life,” he argued, slowing down some. “I think I’m done for now,” he admitted, looking annoyed, and Clint smiled supportively.

“You did great to go nearly the whole way around,” he encouraged, sliding his arms around Phil’s waist as he stepped around to face him, as well as help him rest a little by taking some of his weight. “You’ll be running a course before you know it, Boss.”

Phil smiled tightly and nodded. “I know, I just have to keep reminding myself I’m lucky I’m alive.”

Clint closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against Phil’s. “ _I’m_ lucky you’re alive so trust me, I won’t let you forget.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet,” Mary said, ruining their moment. “Now sit in the chair, the last thing we need is you falling and breaking an arm.”

Clint laughed and held Phil’s hands, helping him balance as he sat down in the wheelchair. “Careful, we don’t want to anger her.” He lowered his voice. “I think her arms are bigger than mine, she might be able to take me if it came down to it,” he whispered and Phil gave him a tired chuckle.

“Fury should recruit her. Maybe you would stop running away from medical if someone was strong enough to hold you down,” Phil mumbled back, but Clint immediately tense. Phil frowned, but then remembered. “Oh, right. You left.”

Clint shrugged, standing up. “No big deal, I’ve got another job lined up,” he said loud enough for Mary to recognize the end of their whispered conversation.

~

It wasn’t until Phil finished his dinner, having been cleared to sit on the couch in front of the window (that folded flat for family to sleep on - where Clint slept every night) to eat his meals, that Phil turned to Clint, who was lounging next to him, and grabbed his hand. “Clint, I need you to talk to me about something,” he said and Clint tensed, then sighed.

“Who told you?” he asked weakly.

Phil raised an eyebrow, shifting his body to face Clint more. “I mean leaving SHIELD. You know I know that.” Clint looked away. “I want to know why, Clint. Fury just said that you were given an order that has Wu on probation, but since everything is so tight at SHIELD in the rebuild, you followed her order and he can’t reassign you without messing up what little he has with a reshuffle of specialists.” He eyed him curiously. “I can’t imagine you on undercover work. They had no business putting you there. I know they’re struggling, but you’re not Natasha.”

An almost stricken look ghosted cross Clint’s face and he took a shaky breath. “Here,” he said weakly, pulling the chain he kept under his shirt off over his head. He handed it to Phil, who looked alarmed.

“Clint? What’re you thinking right now,” Phil asked, looking at their wedding rings in his hand. “Why did you give me this?”

Clint looked straight ahead, spine stiff. “You won’t want me to have them after you find out what I did.”

“Clint, whatever happened, there is nothing in this world that would make me want-“ Phil shrugged. “Hell I don’t even know what you’re doing here. Are you going to run and you want me to have these to remember you by?” he asked, holding up their rings.

“They’re for when you divorce me,” Clint whispered and Phil tensed.

“Barton, that isn’t funny,” he said seriously. “There isn’t anything on this world or any other that could make me want to _divorce_ you. SHIELD can kiss my ass, you’re my husband. I may have worked for them for twenty-five years, but my loyalties shifted the day I married you. Hell, before that,” Phil said. He reached out and curled his hand around the one Clint had clenched into a fist on his thigh. He pulled it into his own lap and prized Clint’s hand open, sliding their fingers together. “What happened?”

Clint swallowed hard, still staring ahead. “I told Fury that I wanted a new handler. He said no, and I quit. After what she made me do, I couldn’t take it. Fury wasn’t happy, I know he wasn’t, but he still was going to let her order me around again after that.”

“She’s on probation-“

“She can’t take the full blame,” Clint admitted. “I did what she told me to. I followed orders. You know I’ve got no problem breaking orders if I don’t agree, but I did it because I was- I wasn’t made for that kind of work and I forgot that SHIELD always has backup plans.” He looked down at his lap. “I see better from a distance. When I’m in the middle of it all, I start to forget the big picture. I only see what I’m told to see. I forget there are other ways. I couldn’t- I couldn’t strategize on the fly when I was in the middle of it all-“

Phil cut him off. “You’re avoiding.” He stroked Clint’s knuckle. “What was her order.”

Clint took a breath and looked straight ahead again. “My mission was to get the phone off of a man who we knew had terrorist plans stored on it. I was supposed to buy him drinks until he was drunk enough to drop his guard and pickpocket him. When he refused alcohol, I was supposed to kiss him and slide my hand in his jacket that way, but he knew his bosses were watching and didn’t fall for it. I had no way of getting a hand inside his jacket to pickpocket him. The bar wasn’t crowded so I couldn’t ‘bump into him’, there was nothing.” He hesitated, jaw clenching. “I went to the bathroom where I was supposed to climb out the window with the phone and reported to Wu. I told her I didn’t have it and that we had to call off the mission and try something else. She refused.”

Phil shook his head. “Amateur move. There is always another way. We have backups for our backups.”

Clint nodded. “I know that, but in the moment, in the middle of failing, I had no way to step back and assess that. She was just- she kept talking about how many villagers would die if I didn’t get the phone,” he said and Phil gritted his teeth to stop from responding with the guidelines against guilt-tripping agents in the field because it lead to unpredictability. “She told me there was one last way and that- that it was sure-fire.” He looked away. “Remember-“ He closed his eyes, still facing away. “Remember the one thing SHIELD promised Natasha would never happen? The one thing she’d never have to do again because SHIELD doesn’t do that to their agents?”

Phil froze. His insides ran cold and he looked at Clint with fear in his wide, shocked eyes. He couldn’t even speak when Clint refused to meet his eyes. All he could think was _Please, God, not that._

Clint’s face crumpled and Phil felt rage fill him, building from deep in his stomach and bubbling to the surface. “She told me I had to seduce him and then put on his jacket by accident on the way out and when I refused, when I begged her not to make me do that, she said ‘you kill people, how hard can this be’ and reminded me about all the innocent people who would die-“

“Fuck,” Phil gritted out and Clint pulled his hand away so that he could lean his elbows on his knees and put his face in his hands.

“I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t know how to even do that. I don’t have the training - SHIELD doesn’t even GIVE that kind of training, so I just- just let some man take me back to his room and _fuck me_ less than three months after my husband was murdered. I _let it happen_ to me because I didn’t want people to die because of me, and I made the choice to let SHIELD whore me out for information!” He let out a broken sob. “The whole time all I could think was that my husband died a hero and I was repaying him by sleeping with someone else before his office was even emptied out all the way! I’m nothing but a _whore_!”

Phil’s rage grew and he reached out, grabbing Clint’s wrist. “Clint, stop-“

“I’m a terrible husband!” he cried, shaking his head, still looking down at the floor. “The only time I wasn’t watching your back, you died, and then you’d barely been gone before I was falling into bed with someone else-“

“Shut up,” Phil said harshly, using more strength than either of them realized he’d gained back to snatch Clint around by his wrist. “Shut your mouth right now,” he said, reaching out to grab Clint’s face with the hand not tight around his wrist. “Just shut up!”

Clint sniffled weakly. “I know, you have to hate me, I’m _sorry_ , Phil-“

“Stop!” Phil ordered, then surprised Clint by leaning in to kiss him, hard and aggressive, nails digging into the back of his neck. “Don’t you ever call yourself a whore. Never,” he demanded, all of the calm he was known for gone. “You are not a bad husband-“

“I let another man touch me-“

“You were pushed into an infiltration role without the training, the experience, or the know-how to look at things from that angle,” Phil argued. “And then your handler was a piece of _trash_ ,” he hissed angrily. “That is not how SHIELD operates. SHIELD does not force their assets to sleep with people for information. You should’ve still been benched by psychiatric because Fury should’ve told them you were suffering more than being brainwashed, you should’ve never gone on that mission, and even then, Wu should’ve never given that order. She was lazy. She wanted it done easy and she didn’t care who she fucked over in doing so.” Phil took a calming breath. “And you are not to blame.” He let go of Clint’s wrist and held his face in his hands. “You are not a terrible husband and you are _not_ a whore.” He wiped the wetness from his cheeks, horrified to have just witness the toughest man he knew crying. “You are not to blame for what happened with Loki. I am.”

Clint shook his head. “But-“

“I was reckless,” Phil cut him off. “I had just had my husband taken from me by that bastard, Clint. He _took you_ and I didn’t think you would be able to be saved. I was emotional and reckless and I was fighting to keep myself in line for SHIELD, but when the attack happened on the helicarrier and I saw Loki was going to get away, I lost it. I couldn’t let him get away. Not after what he did to you.” He closed his eyes. “He made it personal and I wasn’t going to let him go without a fight. I was going to kill him or die trying.” He shrugged. “I died trying.” He looked up, eyes locking with Clint’s. “Nothing he did to you was your fault. And nothing that happened on that mission was your fault.”

Clint whimpered. “I made a promise. Even before we got married, even before we got together, I promised to be loyal to you. The first time you saved my life, before I loved you, I swore you were the one I was loyal to, not SHIELD. The first time you ever touched me, I never wanted another person to touch me for the rest of my life. When I married you, I swore to be faithful to you.” He shook his head, a tear slipping down his cheek. “I know you were dead, but it was so soon after you died that boxes were still on your desk and I let a target _fuck me_ so I could steal his fucking phone, Phil. I failed you in every way-“

Phil cut him off with a softer, more gentle kiss than the angry one from moments earlier. “You have never failed me, Clint. You are not to blame. SHIELD, Fury, and most of all Wu are the ones to blame. Never you.” He growled in frustration. “ _Never_ you.”

Clint frowned. “Then why are you angry? I don’t blame you, you should be pissed, you should hate me, you should divorce me and never speak to me again, but- but you kissed me, you’re not pulling away like I’m a monster, but you’re angry-“

“I’m _beyond_ angry,” Phil said tightly, pushing Clint’s hair away from his forehead. “But not at you. Never at you. You are not a monster, you’re not a bad husband, you’re not a whore, and I’d personally disembowel anybody who ever called you those things.” He swallowed hard. “I’m angry for you, Clint. I’m heartbroken _for you_. I cannot put into words how sorry I am for everything that happened to you. I’m so sorry that bastard ever touched you, but I’m not angry at you for it. Why would I be?” Clint started to speak, but Phil cut him off, already seeing the self-deprecating flash in Clint’s eyes. “What Wu did to you was basically forced prostitution. What she did to you was on par with rape. You were not willing, you were under orders with the lives of innocent people hanging over your head. Nobody would blame you for doing it, but anybody with decency would be livid that you went through that.”

Clint looked at him with hope finally beginning to shine through the pain in his eyes. “You- you’re not going to leave me?”

Phil’s answer was to pull Clint into his arms, ignorant of how tired he felt, and hold him. He just held him. He didn’t speak, didn’t try to answer any questions, he simply held Clint, one arm around his waist and the other holding the back of his head as he laid his cheek against Clint’s temple. Clint didn’t cry again – thankfully – but he allowed Phil to hold him while he trembled, hands so tight in the tee-shirt Phil was wearing that Phil knew has hands would be cramped later. They didn’t have to speak for Phil to know Clint understood the silent, _It’s okay_ or for Phil to understand Clint’s unspoken, _I need you_.

~

Fury clearly wasn’t expecting the stress ball that got him right in the eye-patch when he stepped into Phil’s room. “Ow! Motherfucker!” he cursed, ducking the second one that barely missed him. “Coulson, what the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded, glaring at Phil.

“Why wasn’t Wu fired?” Phil asked flatly, showing no sign he’d just thrown two stress-balls at Fury.

Fury sighed and went to sit. “So he talked to you-“

“Talked to me about Wu basically trading his body for information?” Phil asked, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, _my_ specialist told me all about SHIELD giving him a handler that broke the one promise we give our specialists. Now tell me why she hasn’t been fired?”

Fury gave him a tired sigh. “Phil, I can’t. SHIELD lost a lot of people and we just can’t go around firing people right now. She’s on probation.”

Phil nodded without expression. “Okay, even if I can buy that, why wasn’t he given permission to transfer?”

“I couldn’t just shuffle people around, Coulson.” He sat back. “Now, I came here to talk about your coming back to SHIELD after you’re recovered enough.”

Phil shook his head with a sarcastic expression. “Gee, I’m not sure I can work with people who let individuals who are essentially responsible for guilt-induced sexual abuse retain their jobs with a slap on the wrist,” he drawled earning a dark look.

“Coulson, I’m still the Director of SHIELD-“

“Two words, _forced prostitution_!” Phil interrupted.

Fury grumbled. “We really need you-“

“Two more words _my husband_ ,” he stressed. “It’s like this, Nick,” he said simply. “Either you get rid of her before I’m back, or I’ll _kill her_.” He shrugged. “Your choice.”

Fury narrowed his eye. “Would you really resign from being third in command of an organization like SHIELD over one fucked up handler, Agent Coulson?” he asked skeptically.

Phil smiled politely. “I’d tell an organization like SHIELD to go fuck itself over one fucked up handler contributing to what is the equivalent of my husband being raped. Because that’s basically what I hear when I hear ‘she told me innocent Algerian villagers would die if I didn’t do it’. So yes, Nick, I’d absolutely resign.”

“You’ve been with SHIELD for twenty-five years,” Fury stressed. “You would throw that kind of career away like that? I understand it’s bad what happened to Barton, I agree, but you would throw that career away over whether or not the woman gets fired? Twenty-five years?”

Phil shrugged. “He was my asset for fifteen of those years. I’ve been with him for twelve of those years. I’ve been married to him for nine of those years.” He shook his head. “We are professional at our jobs, Nick, so maybe nobody has ever realized it, but my loyalty is to my husband first, SHIELD second. I may stay on the job when it’s a mission, I put him in the same spot as every other agent under my command, but when it comes down to it, he will always have my loyalty.” He crossed his fingers together on his lap. “So it comes down to this, Nick. You fire her and I’ll come back when I’m ready. If you don’t, I’ll come back long enough to turn in my resignation and I’ll find a job with Stark.”

Fury cringed. “You hate Stark.”

Phil chuckled. “I really do, but Clint trusts him, so I trust him too. And he likes me, he’d invent me a job if he had to.”

Fury huffed. “So, it’s you or Wu?”

Phil nodded. “Me or her, yes, sir.”

Fury just stood up. “Goddamit, Phil, you’re a pain in my ass, I don’t know why I haven’t shot you before,” he grumbled as he left the room. “One good eye, my ass, more like thorn in my side.” Phil sat back and fought a smile as the complaints trailed off as Fury walked down the hall.

~

When Phil was able to walk and get around by himself with relative ease for at least enough time to be considered fit to be on his own if he had to be, he was released to Clint to take home. He had a personal physical therapist already assigned to come to the Tower, where he would be staying with Clint, every day to help him out with recovery until he got back into better shape.

Clint was helping Phil by taking some of his weight by the time they got from the car, through the lobby, into the elevator, and to the main lounge where the others were waiting. Pepper was the first one to jump up and run over, hugging Phil. “Phil! It’s good to see you on your feet,” she said, backing up. 

“Thank you,” he said, leaning a bit more heavily into Clint’s side. “For the moment, anyhow.”

Clint eased them past her. “At least sit while everybody says hey and stuff.” He took Phil and let him get settled onto the couch, then smiled. “It’s really awesome to see you home,” he said, leaning in to kiss Phil’s forehead as he stood up. “I’m gonna go get you some food.”

“Thanks, Clint.” He watched him leave, the turned to Stark. “Thanks for letting him come here.”

Tony smiled. “Hey, no big deal, I’ve got room!” He gestured to where Clint had gone. “So, now that you’re sprung, how long’re you staying?” he asked.

Phil shifted and got more comfortable. “Not sure, actually.”

“Oh?” Pepper asked. “I figured you would be back to SHIELD as soon as you’re well again.”

Phil made a face. “Fury hasn’t expressly agreed to my demands and I’m not going back if he doesn’t meet them.”

Bruce chuckled. “Let me guess, they’re about why Clint left?” he asked and Phil nodded tightly. “I don’t blame you, I’d have big demands too.”

~

Clint was reading a book in the rafters over Bruce’s worktable when the doors opened and he heard a clear and calm, “Barton.” He looked down and smiled when he saw Phil looking up at him, wearing a suit for the first time since he was ‘killed’. “A word.”

Clint closed the book and dropped backwards off the beam, landing on the table, careful to avoid Bruce’s coffee. “Sorry,” he said when he stepped on a page and left a shoe-print on it. He hopped off and stopped in front of Phil. “Good do see you looking more like yourself,” he said, reaching out to smooth his hands over Phil’s lapels. 

Phil tilted his head. “Thank you,” he said, then nodded to Bruce. “Excuse us,” he said, turning to walk out with Clint following him. When they got out into the hall where it was private, Phil turned around, raising an eyebrow when he saw Clint stuffing the book into his cargo pocket. He caught the title and a bit of the cover and snorted. “ _The Spymaster’s Lady_?” he asked, catching the airbrushed abs just before it disappeared into Clint’s pocket. “Really?”

Clint narrowed his eyes. “I don’t judge you for your bad reality shows,” he said and Phil’s lips tilted slightly at the corners. “Okay, I do, but whatever.” He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s… interesting and I like it and I don’t have to defend myself here!”

Phil chuckled. “Well, this Spymaster is officially going to meet with Deputy Director Hill and Mr. Stark to set up everything we need so I can officially start working from my office and I wanted to see if you wouldn’t mind coming to help us set up. Stark won’t let Hill touch his equipment but he needs help with the heavy lifting. His idea right now is to have one of his roving robots brought up but we all know how that’ll end.”

Clint nodded. “Of course.” He fell into step with Phil and looked at his feet as they walked. “I’m glad you’re going to be staying around here,” he admitted. “I didn’t mind how many long hours you worked at SHIELD when I was there to crash in your office whenever we couldn’t go home, but now that I’m all-Avenger-all-the-time, you would be in the office all the time and I’d be here without spending any time with you.”

Phil’s lips quirked just a bit. “As much as it pains me to admit I’m taking charity from Tony Stark, I do enjoy living a floor away from my office. Especially since I really can’t get around as much as I’d need to to go to work at SHIELD. Every time we had a drill, I’d have to just lock my office door,” he grumbled almost bitterly.

Clint frowned. “You’re getting better, Phil,” he said softly. “You’ve only been on your feet a month. You’re going to need time. The fact you can take the stairs between our apartment and your new office is great! And I saw you doing a few almost-pushups the other day with your physical therapist. For a man who was stabbed completely through the chest, complete with broken bones and severed muscles, you are doing amazingly.”

Phil sighed. “Six months ago, I could run up twenty floors in this building to avoid Stark looking for me-“

Clint caught his wrist, stopping him. “Six months ago you had the entirety of your left lung, you hadn’t been stabbed through the chest, and you hadn’t spent three _months_ lying in a bed.” He stroked his fingers across Phil’s wrist, looking him in the eyes. “You’re alive. You’re getting better. You’re _walking up stairs_.” He smiled a tiny smile. “You’re here and you’re going to be healthy enough for more strenuous exercise so soon then you can really start recovering the range of motion and muscle mass you lost.” He shrugged. “Besides,” he said as they started walking again, though he slid his hand into Phil’s instead of dropping it. “You’re forty-eight and you were in that shape before. You know how many men your age are even working out still?”

Phil chortled. “I love how you pull the ‘your age’ thing since I’ve come back. Great job showing your happiness over me being alive, point out how old I am.”

Clint stroked his thumb across Phil’s wedding band on his knuckle. “I consider you ‘well aged’,” he said, smiling _too_ innocently. “Like a fine wine, some things get better with age.”

Phil let out a laugh. “Says the teetotaler.” 

“It’s an expression,” Clint dismissed. “Just accept that I’m saying you get more awesome the longer I know you. Besides, I’m only eleven years younger, I’m not exactly Natasha,” he pointed out. “If I make it to forty-eight, I’ll probably have a giant gut,” he predicted.

Phil narrowed his eyes. “ _If_ you make it to forty-eight? You better make it to forty-eight. I saw what this that Fury pulled did to you, you’re not allowed to do it to me.”

Clint smirked. “That an order, Sir?” he asked, stopping at the door to Phil’s office, where they could already hear Stark arguing with someone.

Phil took a peek in and sighed, giving Clint a ‘here goes nothing’ look. “Definitely an order, Barton,” he said before opening the door and walking in.

Clint was surprised to see Director Hill there in person. “Whoa, wasn’t expecting that,” he said, then gestured to the gear Stark was installing around the room. “What are you doing with all this stuff? I thought we were just putting screens and stuff for Phil to coordinate from his office, not install his own central command unit.” He kicked a box. “Is this a biohazard air filtration system?” he asked pointedly. “What do you think is going to happen in here, Stark?”

Tony shrugged. “Hey, if we’re out on mission and Phil’s our eyes and ears and the tower is attacked, he needs a safe zone. I’m going to reinforce his door and outer wall eventually so that it’s basically a panic room.” He knocked on the window. “Need to get thicker glass, too.”

Clint leaned closer to Phil and lowered his voice. “Something tells me Stark really likes you in secret,” he whispered.

Phil chuckled. “Mr. Stark, I would really just like to have the equipment I need to keep track of everybody while I’m stuck in the tower. I don’t need a biohazard, end of the world panic room.”

Hill walked around the desk to face them. “This is still temporary, right?” she asked, looking at Phil. “Once you’re healthy enough to come back to headquarters-“

“I’m going to mostly work here still, but I will go back to coming to headquarters occasionally,” he answered. “Director Fury and I discussed the possibility of me becoming a permanent liaison between the Avengers and SHIELD.”

She nodded. “It’s just that we could really use you now that Wu got fired,” she said and Phil felt Clint tense next to him.

“Wu being fired was my stipulation for returning to SHIELD,” Phil said. “If I’m going to work with SHIELD, it wasn’t going to be with her still employed. There’s still a possibility of my assets coming back to work under me as their handler and that means she had to go,” he said simply.

Hill raised an eyebrow. “Wow, so the new handler had to be _fired_ for you to come back? Never thought you were that petty, Coulson-“

“There’s nothing petty about refusing to work with the person who did whatever she did that was bad enough to make Agent’s _husband_ quit _SHIELD_ ,” Stark argued. “I’m petty, I know petty, but whatever this woman did had to be really bad .” Clint and Phil both turned to glare at Tony in unison. “What?” he asked innocently.

Clint slapped a hand over his face and turned to go help Tony untangle wires so he could turn his back on the discussion while Phil took a breath and faced Hill. “Husband?” she asked incredulously, looking at Barton. “ _Husband_?”

Phil smiled tightly. “That’s correct. Husband. And probation was not enough for me. Maybe that is being ‘petty’,” he argued, voice as flat as ever. “But now she’s gone so it’s of no consequence.”

Tony snickered. “You don’t fuck with a super spy’s husband- OW!” he cried, rubbing his arm while glaring at Clint.

Phil never looked away from Hill but his lip curled up in amusement. “Thank you, Barton.”

Clint smirked. “Not a problem, Sir.”

~

Bruce was yawning when he shuffled into the kitchen and went to open the refrigerator door. Almost as soon as he opened it however, he closed it again and looked back in the direction past the refrigerator to where Clint was standing at the stove.

Shirtless.

“Uh…” He looked and saw both Phil and Tony at the table, both with Stark Tablets in their hands, though he saw Coulson’s eyes mostly looking past the top of his tablet to where Clint was cooking breakfast without a shirt on and in a pair of tight, low-riding jeans. “Um, Clint, why are you half-naked?” Bruce asked in a lowered voice, trying to avoid catching Tony’s attention.

Clint looked up and smiled. “Hey Bruce, I’m making pancakes if you wanna wait around for a little while,” he said, plating up what he was just finishing. He spun around to the island and grabbed some sliced strawberries off the cutting board and put them on top before walking over to the table. “Here, Honey,” he said, placing the plate next to Phil, tugging his tablet out of his hand with the other so he could slide the plate in front of him.

Phil reached for the tablet, then shot Clint a look when he held it behind his back. “I’m working-“

“And you need to eat,” Clint said obstinately. “You have a lot of PT to do today, you need to eat plenty so you’ll have energy,” he said, spinning around and laying the tablet on the counter away from where he was cooking.

Bruce looked up from pouring himself some coffee when Clint got back and poured up the next batch of pancakes. “Is it even smart to be frying things without a shirt on?” he asked, looking between the stove and Clint’s bare abdomen.

Clint smirked slightly. “Motivation tactic. Phil has been really down about how long physical therapy is taking. He’s started to really hit a wall and not do as much as he should for his therapist.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Let’s just say he doesn’t get an all-clear for ‘strenuous activity’ until he gets to a certain point with his breathing capacity rehab.” He grinned down at the pan. “Nothing to help motivate a man into doing everything he’s told to in physical therapy than remind him what he gets when he’s better.”

Bruce snorted. “You’re an evil man, Clint Barton,” he said, then eyed his stomach and the pan a few inches away. “And seriously, you’re going to burn yourself. I really hope a motivation tactic is worth explaining a frying pan burn on your abs next time you go to medical.”

Clint rolled his eyes. “Of course it’s worth the risk, he’s _Phil_ ,” he stressed. Bruce just smiled in amusement.

~

Phil came in, still breathing hard from the stairs, to Bruce’s lab and glowered when he saw Clint doing pushups while Stark rested his heels on Clint’s back. “For the record, I’m not okay with a notorious playboy touching my husband while he isn’t wearing a shirt,” he said and Clint laughed from his spot doing pushups.

“Sorry Honey, I lost a bet.”

Bruce nodded from across the lab. “He was going to do pushups with Tony sitting on his back but Tony’s too fat-“

“It’s _muscle_ Banner!” Stark argued. “I’m solid! You’re just skinny!”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say, point is you’re too heavy.”

Phil walked over and leaned against Bruce’s lab table, subtly resting his weight. “What kind of bet did he lose?”

Clint looked up, still calmly doing pushups. “That I could name the authors of more books than them. Bruce beat me,” he said, glowering playfully.

Tony shrugged. “For someone who I once heard call himself a dumb hick, your dude knows his literature.”

Phil smiled fondly. “SHIELD doesn’t have unintelligent assets, Stark. Clint just likes to read instead of do math.”

Clint nodded, without breaking pace. “I have a book on me at all times. I read anything really. I didn’t take you for a reader, Bruce.”

Bruce chuckled. “Well, when you’re bored and on the run, paper is one thing that can’t be used to track you down. Couldn’t have phones or go somewhere with television or internet.” He shrugged. “Besides, as a dorky kid, reading was a good escape.”

Tony snorted. “Words suck, I don’t even like the alphabet – seriously, I have my own letters on my computers and phones – numbers are the way to go. Clean. Neat. Precise.”

“Boring,” Clint argued. “You can turn numbers into things, I just remember them for codes or figuring out wind resistance or whatever. Words tell stories. One day, when I’m old and can’t be a spy anymore, I’m going to write the most badass spy novels in history that seem like fiction but are based on my past missions.”

Phil smirked. “Like those cheesy romance novels you like? What was it last week, ‘Under The Covers Undercover” or something-“

“Shut up about my books, Coulson, you watched a show about _repossession_ last night for three hours!” Clint argued.

Bruce snickered. “Clint, you really read bad romance novels?”

Tony grinned. “Are they dirty, dirty romance novels?” he asked and Clint’s ears turned red. “C’mon, you’re a badass assassin and you read dirty romance novels?”

“Cut him some slack, he’s a spy married to his superior,” a voice from the ceiling said, startling a cry out of Stark and Banner both as Natasha lightly fell to the floor beside Clint, barely having to bend her knees to brace herself. “Seriously?” she asked flatly.

Bruce glowered, rubbing at his chest. “What part of ‘don’t surprise the human time bomb’ don’t you get?!”

“I think I’m dying,” Tony panted. “JARVIS, am I having a heart attack?!”

“Sir, I believe what you experienced is called ‘screaming like a little girl’,” JARVIS answered, startling a genuine smile onto Phil’s face. Tony just glowered at the ceiling.

“Ha fucking ha, JARVIS. You sassy AI,” he grumbled, then stood up, taking his feet off of Clint so he could stand up. “What do you want?” he asked Natasha, who just shrugged.

“I was sneaking around and found Clint’s access to the air vents and decided to check things out.” She nodded up at the open grate she’d dropped through. “Oh yeah, Clint, you’ll have to fix that. My arms are too short to pull it back up.”

“No problem,” he said as he stood, smiling as he punched her in the arm. “Good you’re home. Look at Phil!” he said brightly, walking over to where Phil stood, tugging his shirt on as he went. “He’s getting better,” he said, leaning his head against Phil’s shoulder.

She raised an eyebrow at the movement but nodded. “Good to see you getting around, Sir.”

Phil nodded. “Thank you, Natasha.” He rested a hand on Clint’s ass absently. “Did you need something?” he asked.

“I was coming to give a heads up that Captain Rogers has returned so we’ll be ready for a formal meeting with Fury about you becoming an official liaison.” She looked up just as the door opened and JARVIS finished speaking.

“Here we are, Captain.”

Steve Rogers walked in wearing a bright smile. “Agent Coulson, it’s great to see you!” he announced immediately. He pushed his bangs back from where they’d slid across his forehead and nodded at the rest. “Hey, guys. Sorry it took so long to get back.”

Phil looked as bland as ever but he was tense. Clint bit back a smile and nodded. “Hey, Cap.” He saw Steve look over, then double-take as he noticed Phil’s hand on Clint’s ass. 

“Um…” He gestured between Phil’s hand and Clint and the room at large. “Why do I feel like I missed something?”

Tony walked over, slapping Steve on the shoulder. “It’s the twenty-first century, Cap! We have this thing called ‘homosexuality’-“

Steve glowered. “Yeah, we had that in my day too, Stark, and I’m well aware of modern day practices,” he argued, then turned to Phil and Clint with a serious look. “Don’t believe him, I’m very supportive of your rights,” he said earnestly.

Clint snickered and lowered his voice, leaning in to whisper, “Hear that, Phil? _Captain America_ is supportive of our gayness.” He wiggled his eyebrows, grinning when Phil’s ears turned a little bit pink.

“What I meant,” Steve continued. “Is since when are Agent Coulson and Barton… whatever they are,” he said, and Bruce chuckled.

“It’s called ‘having sex’-“

“I meant them being partners,” Steve cut him off, glaring though his cheeks were pink.

Clint smiled, sliding his arms around Phil’s shoulders. “A long time. Just didn’t advertise it.” He looked at Phil. “Also, really, what’s with the hand on my ass?” he asked and Phil just shrugged, looking completely casual.

“I took the stairs, I deserve a minor grope,” he said calmly, though Clint could see amusement in his eyes.

“While we’re on topic,” Natasha spoke up, “What’s with the touchy feely stuff? It’s creepy and kind of gross,” she said, making a face.

Clint shrugged, grabbing the hand from his ass to lace their fingers together. “He’s always been my boss before, I wasn’t _allowed_ to be touchy in front of other people. Also, I spent three months thinking my husband was dead, allow me a little while to get over the idleness of having him back.” He saluted Natasha mockingly. “No worries, we’ll be back to barely standing close together before too long.”

Steve gaped. “ _Husband_?! And Fury isn’t dead yet?” he asked, looking around the room in surprise.

Clint shrugged. “Thought about it.” He turned to Phil. “Alright, if there’s a meeting to be planned, you have a lot of stairs to take to get to your office-“

“The hell I do-“

“Phil, you have to build your endurance and get used to less lung capacity!” Clint argued. “Stairs, now.”

Phil narrowed his eyes. “Since when do you get to give me orders, Barton?”

Clint just smirked. “Since I’m not being Agent Barton, I’m in ‘nagging husband’ mode.” He pointed at the doors. “Remember, the sooner you build your endurance, the faster you can get back into fighting shape, and then you can go back into the field.”

Phil made a face then turned to walk towards the doors. “I see how it is, you just want to shoot things again and you need me to get you back into SHIELD.”

Clint just rolled his eyes. “Yes, Honey, my goal is entirely occupational and not at all related to the wellbeing and happiness of my husband.”

“Knew it!” Phil called back just as the doors swung shut behind him.

~

Phil nodded, looking at the page in the folder in front of him. “Yes, sir, I think everything is set. Next call you need them on, I can coordinate things from right here-“

The door opened and he looked past the screen just in time to see Clint walking in with a plate. “Here, Hon, you missed dinner so I thought you might be hungry,” he said, not even looking at the center screen in front of Phil as he leaned around him and laid a plate with a sandwich on it to the side. “You know what the physical therapist said about skipping meals while you’re still building muscle,” he added, pressing a kiss to Phil’s forehead on his way back to standing.

Phil just sighed and rested his head in one hand for a moment before looking up. “Clint, didn’t I say I was busy?” he asked and Clint raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, but you still have to eat-“ He froze when Fury chuckled and he looked up to see Fury’s face on the monitor. “Oh,” he said, then cleared his throat. “Um, sorry, Sir. Didn’t realize Agent Coulson was taking a call.” He looked at the screen then at Phil then slowly backed out of the frame. “I’ll just leave now.”

Phil shook his head as soon as the door clicked shut and Fury burst out laughing. “‘Hon’?! Oh God, I never took Barton for one to call anybody pet names, Coulson. That’s hilarious.”

Phil lifted his chin. “Just proves how professional he is at work, Fury. Everybody is so shocked at how he acts around me at home because in the field – even just on SHIELD property – he is completely professional. You’ll probably never have to see a display like that again.”

Fury snorted. “God I hope not, you’d lose so much of your fearsome image in the eyes of the junior agents if they saw that.” He smirked. “And he brought you a sandwich, talk about a real housewife-“

“May I remind you that ‘housewife’ is still the best shot that we’re aware of in the entire world and already has reason enough to dislike you?” Phil pointed out and Fury laughed.

“Alright, alright, back to work!” he said, then got back to discussing how things would go when the Avengers were called and Phil coordinated the mission from the office.

~

When Phil got back to their floor, Clint was waiting on the couch. “Phil, before you get angry, I had no idea or I wouldn’t have interrupted,” he said quickly. “I’m really sorry if I made you feel unprofessional in any way-“

“Clint-“

“And I know how much you hate that, I just wanted to be sure you ate.”

Phil laughed and sat down, tugging off his tie. “Clint, it’s alright, it wasn’t what I’d have liked to happen, but I’m too tired to be bothered.”

Clint frowned, leaning back to look at how pale Phil looked. “Are you okay? You ate, right?”

Phil nodded. “I’m alright,” he said, laying his jacket and tie across the arm. “I’m just so tired still by the end of the day.” He looked at Clint with a sad smile. “Pretty sure I have to admit I’ll never be what I was.”

Clint shook his head, leaning into Phil’s side. “You are going to be just as healthy as before, Phil, you just have a lot of muscle to rebuild.” He laid his head on Phil’s shoulder. “Three months in a bed is rough on your body.” He slid his hand into Phil’s. “Anything I can do to make you feel better?” he asked. “I could draw you up a warm bath?”

Phil hummed interestedly, then squeezed Clint’s fingers. “If you’ll join me,” he said, kissing Clint’s forehead.

Clint hesitated, biting his lip. “Phil, you’re not supposed to be over-exerting yourself yet.”

Phil looked at him searchingly. “Clint, you keep saying that, but do you not remember how many times you’ve disregarded serious injuries in favor of sex?” He reached up and cupped his face. “I can take eight floors of stairs, I think I can handle a bath with you.” Clint looked away and Phil curled his fingers around his chin, guiding him back. “Look at me, please?” Clint met his eyes reluctantly. “Barton, talk to me,” he said, and Clint smiled at the order.

“I’m fine, Phil-“

“You’re not,” Phil said softly, stroking a thumb below his eye as he looked into Clint’s deep, blue eyes, looking for something. “Clint, I’m going to ask you something and I want you talk to me, don’t just get mad and run off.”

Clint huffed. “That’s never a good sign-“

“Is this all about what happened to you?” Phil asked outright. Clint stilled and Phil slid his hand to curl around the back of Clint’s neck. “You know you can just talk to me. I know what happened was so far from okay, but I need you to tell me if that’s the real reason you don’t want to have sex.”

Clint winced. “Phil-“

“And,” he continued, clearly unfinished. “You do know I’d never get angry if you can’t, right?” He looked into his eyes. “I know you have to understand that because I would never do anything that you aren’t ready for yet. What you went through was terrible and I fully understand.”

Clint sighed shakily and closed his eyes. “Phil, I don’t want to talk about it-“

“We need to, Clint,” Phil murmured. “We have to talk about this. I’m sorry, but I need to know so I don’t accidentally do something to hurt you-“

“ _You_ couldn’t ever hurt me,” Clint argued defensively. “Nothing you could want or ask of me is bad, never. I just-“ He closed his eyes, voice tight. “I don’t understand why you still want me.”

Phil’s heart dropped. “Clint,” he said gently but Clint shook his head.

“What don’t you get, Phil? I’m disgusting. I let a man who isn’t my husband fuck me. What about letting SHIELD turn me into a whore don’t you think is disgusting?” he asked weakly.

Phil glowered. “You are not disgusting. What they did to you is, but you aren’t. You’re not a whore, you’re not disgusting, and I don’t see it as you sleeping with someone else, I see it as your former handler coercing you into sex. At the very least it’s forced prostitution, but I see it closer to the man I love more than anything being raped. You’re not disgusting, _they are_ ,” he said sternly. “You’re still my husband. You’re still my Clint.”

Clint huffed. “You can’t really still want me-“

“Barton, I’ll always want you,” Phil said with a small laugh. He stroked his thumb along Clint’s jaw. “When I’m old and you’re getting there, I’ll still want you. I want you probably more often than you’d imagine, I’m just good at distraction.” He smirked. “Hell, I’ll still want you when I’m too old to even have sex anymore and it’s just a wistful dream.”

Clint smiled sadly. “I’m not too broken and dirty to you?” he asked and Phil shook his head, biting his lip at the sharp pain that filled his heart at hearing Clint imply he’s broken or dirty.

“If you aren’t ready, if the memories are still too fresh, I’ll never ask you to let me touch you before you’re sure it’s what you want.” Phil smiled. “But never doubt that I want you.”

Clint took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay so… how about we take a bath and just bathe?” he offered. “I’ll be honest, I can remember every second of that bastard touching me so you’re right, I’m not sure I can have sex yet. At least not completely.”

Phil nodded. “Fine.” He smiled ruefully. “And you’re not wrong, the doctor still hasn’t cleared me for anything ‘strenuous’.” He hesitated. “Did you go to medical and make sure you’re okay?” he asked gingerly and Clint nodded.

“Yeah – well not medical – Bruce ran the blood work for me, but the mark used a condom so my blood work came out clean.” He groaned. “I’d have probably had to just kill myself if that bastard gave me something.”

Phil winced visibly. “Don’t even joke, okay?” Phil said softly. He shook his head. “Not about that. Please?”

Clint’s eyes widened. “Shit, I’m sorry, Phil,” he said, leaning in to kiss him. “I’m sorry, that was stupid-“

“I just remember what it was like to think I lost you, so just-“

“No, yeah,” Clint said quickly. “I know exactly what you mean,” he said. He smirked and stood up. “Come on, one non-sexual yet entirely naked and awesome bath coming right up,” he offered, taking Phil’s hand to help him up.

Clint started the bath – glad their bath was large and could fit them both – and tugged off his shirt, only to gasp softly when he looked up and caught sight of the angry, jagged scar running down Phil’s chest in the mirror. Phil looked up and caught his eye. “Yeah, pretty sure I’ll never go to the beach again,” he joked but Clint turned around, biting his lip as he looked at the scar. “Clint?” Phil asked, looking at his face. “Hey, I’m fine.”

Clint swallowed and reached out, laying his fingertips beside the pink, shiny scar. “I haven’t seen it in the light before,” he whispered. He looked up into Phil’s eyes, then looked back down. “God, I’m so lucky you’re alive,” he mumbled, skin pale.

Phil started to speak, but was silenced by surprise when Clint closed his eyes and leaned down, pressing his lips to the scar on his chest. Phil curled his arms around Clint’s waist, smiling sadly when Clint laid his head on his shoulder and hugged him back. “I’m lucky to be alive.”

Clint lifted his head, sniffling suspiciously. “Alright, so, water, I need to turn it off,” he said, shuffling away.

When they were finally settled in the water, and Clint pulled Phil back against his front, Phil caught Clint’s hand and raised an eyebrow as he held it up, having just noticed Clint’s wedding band on his finger. “Didn’t know this thing actually fit you.”

Clint smiled. “Yeah,” he said, lacing their left hands together out of the water. “I haven’t had any missions lately so I decided to wear it now that you’re wearing yours more often.” He kissed the back of Phil’s head. “I know it’s definitely temporary, but it makes me feel domestic.” He smiled at their hands. “I know it’s so far from ‘honeymoon’ conditions, but you being alive, getting you back… it’s all like a honeymoon phase or something to me. Knowing I have you is making me want to feed you and fuss over you and wear my wedding band and just be your _husband_ for a while.” He shrugged, sloshing the water a little. “It’s like I was given a second chance with you when I thought I had lost my whole world and I like that I’ve got a little while that I don’t have to be Hawkeye or Agent Barton. I can just be Clint _Coulson_ until real life catches again.”

Phil laughed softly. “Do _not_ let Tony Stark find out you legally changed your last name when we got married.” He lounged back against Clint’s body. “I can admit, I enjoy this. I enjoy a little ‘vacation’ where it’s just you and me and each other for hours at a time.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence for a little while before Clint spoke. “Phil… Did you ever see me? When I was- when Loki took me?”

Phil tensed, then squeezed Clint’s hands in his, bringing the left one to his lips. “Not with my own eyes, but I saw the footage. It was the worst couple of days of my life,” he admitted. “I thought you were gone for sure.”

Clint cringed. “Figured they’d have to kill me?”

Phil nodded. “Although even then, I thought you were already gone. I saw your eyes and I thought ‘Clint’ was gone and your body was just a puppet for his magic. I saw how dead your eyes looked and thought my husband was never coming back.” He leaned his head back and looked up at Clint. “Your eyes are what I fell in love with. Your eyes never lie, your eyes are so full of life and laughter and everything that is Clint Barton. I saw how empty and blank they were and in my mind, I thought for sure Clint wasn’t in there because if even a tiny bit of you was left, it would be in your eyes.” Phil shuddered. “And I had to hide it. I had to hide my grief, I had to hide my pain, and I had to be Agent Coulson and run the show. And I did, I compartmentalized and went forward. I faked it so well but when Loki got out, when everything was under attack and confusing, and when I saw the footage of you on the security cameras and I kind of lost it,” he admitted. “I went down there to hurt Loki. I figured he wouldn’t die, but a lot of people were dying and if I was another one, then so be it. I was going to hurt that bastard for taking my husband and killing my coworkers,” Phil said darkly.

Clint closed his eyes and kissed Phil’s neck, though he couldn’t fight a small, dark chuckle. “I hear you blasted him through a wall,” he said and Phil grinned.

“Yeah, that was pretty satisfying,” he said softly, closing his eyes as Clint hugged him tightly, holding him close. Phil laid his arms on top of Clint’s around him and leaned his head against Clint’s neck. “I know I don’t say it enough, but I love you, Clint.”

Clint smiled and kissed his damp hair. “I don’t need to hear it to know it. Love you too, Hon.”

Phil snickered. “What’s with the ‘honey’ and ‘hon’ stuff? You’ve said it before, but you say it so much lately-“

“I told you!” Clint laughed. “I’m feeling domestic. Let me!”

Phil sighed. “Alright, but as soon as you slip and say it on the radio, you’ll pay the price,” he warned, earning a smirk. Phil glowered playfully. “Not in a sexy way,” he said before Clint could do more than wiggle his eyebrows.

~

Clint was watching while Tony and Bruce upgraded a new prototype crossbow for him in the range – so that he could test their adjustments – when the door opened and Phil came in smiling while Steve clapped him on the shoulder. He smirked when he saw Phil duck his head and the tips of his ears turned pink. No matter how long Rogers had been back, Phil still got a little starry eyed. It was _adorable_.

“Steve, hey!” Bruce called out. “Wanna come be strong for us for a second?” he asked, nodding to the bowstring Tony was failing at getting back in place.

“Sure thing,” Steve said, heading over. Clint watched with a knowing smirk on his face when Phil walked over. 

“Not a word, Barton-“

Clint snickered. “Captain America touched your shoulder! You can never shower again-“

“I hate you,” Phil grumbled but Clint just bumped their arms. 

“No you don’t.” He looked over. “It’s cute. You totally have a little crush on Rogers,” he said, tilting his head. “Although even if he wasn’t Captain America you’d probably have a crush on him,” he pointed out, eyes still on Steve. “Really, he’s so… wholesome. It’s almost disturbing. It’s like he climbed out of a 50’s tv show. The inner do-gooder side of you says you’d still totally have a crush if he wasn’t your boyhood idol-“

Phil sighed. “Are you finished?”

Clint smirked. “All blond hair and blue eyes and deep-seated patriotism. Even without the tights and shield, he’s as All-American as apple pie. Hell, his hair probably smells like apple pie-“

“Now you’re just getting ridiculous,” Phil said, then nudged their arms together again. “Besides, what was that about blond hair and blue eyes?” he pointed out.

Clint made a face. “I’m not blond. Or in any way, shape, or form ‘wholesome’.”

Phil eyed his hair. “Well, in certain lights it’s kinda blond. Sandy hair is weird like that. And you have the blue eyes thing down. But yeah, definitely not at all a picture of patriotic wholesomeness. You’re the total opposite,” he teased.

Clint smirked, winking flirtatiously. “That mean you have a thing for the ‘bad boy’ as well?”

Phil chuckled. “Barton, you’re so- wait…” He frowned. “Wow, no, that’s totally true. What the hell?” Clint burst out laughing. “No, seriously, I grew up idolizing Captain America because he was so _good_ and the kind of guy middle-American mothers would adore, then I married a tattooed, smartass with a filthy mouth and a criminal past. Oh my God, you were my ‘bad boy’ fantasy I never knew I had,” he realized and Clint couldn’t stop laughing. “Shut up, this is way too huge of a realization for a man my age to make-“

“Whatever you said to make Barton giggle, please never share,” Banner called, then held up the crossbow. “Clint, wanna test this?”

Tony perked up. “No, wait, was it dirty?! If so share away!”

Clint smirked, walking over to them. “Just helped Phil realize marrying me was a sign he has a thing for ‘the bad boy’ when before he’d always liked the ‘wholesome, take home to mom’ types.”

Tony made a face. “Well duh, that’s not news.”

“It was to me,” Phil retorted, crossing his arms as they paused to watch Clint aim and shoot. The bolt went wide and Tony cursed.

“Damn it, why won’t it shoot right?! You sure you really want a crossbow?” he asked, pouting at Clint comically.

Clint just saluted. “You’re the weapons man, you can work it out.”

Steve stood from his spot beside Tony. “While they work on that, want to go get lunch, Phil? You ran a long ways, you should definitely eat,” he said and Clint smiled at Phil.

“Oh yeah? How much did you run today?” he asked.

Phil shrugged. “Steve and I just went for a little jog-“

Steve scoffed. “Hey, for a man who still technically does physical therapy, I’d say nearly five miles is more than ‘a little jog’.”

Clint smiled brightly. “Really? Damn, I didn’t think it would be that far already!” His smile softened. “I’m so glad you’re getting better, Honey.”

Phil rolled his eyes. “Thanks,” he said, falling into step with Steve to go get lunch.

Clint smirked and winked at Stark before calling out. “Hands off my man, Rogers! I know he’s getting sexy muscles again but remember I’ll kill you!” he called out, collapsing into sniggers with Stark when Phil flipped him off without turning back.

~

Clint woke up from a new nightmare. It was mostly flashes and fear, but he remembered Loki’s cold fingers on his arm as he whispered into his ear, telling him who to kill. It was Phil. Phil asleep in their bed, innocent and unassuming, with Clint’s arrow aimed at his heart. Before he could release the arrow, though, Loki’s cold fingers and slid down his arm and to his waist. Those cold, skeletal fingers slid down his thigh and back up his inner thigh. Clint had jerked awake before the touch could go further. He looked Phil over, watching him continue to sleep peacefully for a while before slipping out of the bed and out of their room.

In the range, Clint tested his new crossbow a few times before instead taking up his favorite bow and grabbing his quiver, strapping it on so that he could shoot for a while, envisioning the target as Loki’s face. He had been there for less than an hour when the door opened so quietly he knew it was only one person. Natasha would’ve been totally silent. “I didn’t wake you, did I?” Clint asked softly.

“I think you being gone woke me,” Phil said, voice closer than Clint expected. He looked up and saw Phil standing off to his right about eight feet. “You okay?” he asked, though his expression said he knew.

Clint chuckled weakly. “Just another nightmare.”

“What about?” Phil asked and Clint gave him a pained look. “It’s okay if you can’t, but I’m listening if you can.”

Clint took a weak breath and raised the bow again. “Loki. And you.” He released an arrow and knocked another smoothly. “My arrow aimed at you while you slept,” he gritted out, released the arrow. He drew another and whimpered. “Loki touching me while I was aiming an arrow at your heart.” He released the arrow and his voice cracked when he drew again and continued. “His hands on me while I was about to kill you-“

“You just had a bad dream, okay? You never tried to hurt me-“ Clint cut Phil off by firing again.

“I don’t care, I dreamed of my _husband_ in my sights!” Clint whispered tightly. He didn’t even notice his fingertip bleeding until he drew another arrow and Phil’s hands rested on his elbow and wrist. “Phil-“

“Stand down, Barton,” Phil murmured in his ear. He left his gentle hands on Clint’s arms until he released the tension and relaxed the bow. Phil then curled his arms around Clint’s middle and kissed the side of his neck, letting Clint lean into him. He curled his arms around Clint and Clint let the arrow fall from the string as he raised his left hand to curl around Phil’s wrist, letting his head hang.

“Phil,” he choked out an Phil reached down, taking his bow from him. Clint turned around and looked into Phil’s eyes. “I’m sorry I’m a fuck-up.”

Phil lowered the bow to the floor then stood tall, shaking his head. “You are not a fuck-up.” He raised his hands and held Clint’s face in his hands. “Clint, you’re alright-“

“I would’ve killed you, Phil! If he had asked me to, I couldn’t have stopped! And then if he’d wanted, if he’d _actually_ touched me like he did in that dream, I would’ve let him have me. I did _anything_ he told me to do! I can’t be trusted anymore-“

Phil kissed him to cut him off. “He’s gone. He’s gone and you’re not. You lived. I lived. We _survived_ Loki’s attempted takeover and you helped save the world after Natasha recovered you.” He shook his head. “You’re safe.”

“But I’m dangerous,” Clint said, eyes still downcast though he was at least stable once again, no more shaking voice.

Phil smirked, tipping Clint’s chin up so he had to look at him. “Yeah you are. You’re the best marksman in the world, so I’d say you’re pretty damn dangerous.” He smiled at him. “And it only adds to your being sexy, if I’m honest.” Clint rolled his eyes but Phil saw a small smile teasing at the edges of his lips. “Clint, you’re a very dangerous man, but you’re on my side so I’m happy about that.”

Clint chuckled. “I hope I’m able to stay on your side forever now. No more brainwashing.”

Phil shrugged. “If you do, it’s still not your fault. You’re only Clint Barton when you’re in control of your own faculties. But you know what?” He asked, looking into Clint’s eyes. “You’re a survivor. You went through so much without any of the superpowers your fellow superheroes have – yes scary Russian-ness counts as superpowers –“ he joked and Clint laughed. “You helped _save the world_.”

Clint swallowed hard. “But what good is that if I can’t save my own husband? Phil, what good is the world without you in it?” he asked.

Phil shrugged. “I don’t know, because I was fighting to be my usual ‘good guy’ self when I thought I lost you. But I know this.” He curled his fingers around the back of Clint’s neck. “I learned to be grateful of every day I have you. I always was, but we both know what it’s like to lose each other. So I’m not wasting another night letting bad dreams take you from my side if I can help it.” He sealed his words with a kiss, slow and tender, pulling Clint in with the gentlest hands as he did so.

Clint let out a shaky breath when the kiss broke. “Jesus, Phil-“

“Problem, Barton?” Phil asked, voice low and teasing as his fingertips slid under the hem of Clint’s shirt.

Clint moaned softly, goose bumps erupting over his skin as Phil’s nailed scraped along his lower back, just above the waistband of his sweats. “N-not unless being overwhelmed by how amazing you are is a problem, Sir.” Phil smirked and Clint couldn’t help but kiss that smirk off his face. Phil sank into the kiss without hesitation. Clint lapped into Phil’s mouth, nipping at Phil’s upper lip before Phil pulled back. Clint raised an eyebrow and Phil chuckled, kissing him sweetly before pulling back again.

“Tell me when to stop,” he said, kissing Clint once more as his hands slid under Clint’s shirt. Clint realized what he meant as Phil’s hands climbed higher, taking his shirt with it. However, Clint had no intention of stopping him. He raised his arms when Phil reluctantly broke the kiss to haul Clint’s shirt off. He didn’t waste any time dropping it and grabbing at Phil’s shirt. Phil stripped his shirt off and dropped it beside them, immediately settling his hands on Clint’s abs, moaning softly as he touched Clint in a way he hadn’t in a long time. “You sure this is okay because I expected you to need time and-“

“You said it, Boss,” Clint said, kissing him sweetly as he pressed their bodies flush. “No more letting nightmares keep us apart. I’m _not_ letting my problems stop me from enjoying every bit of the husband I got back.”

Phil smirked. “So that’s what they call it these days-“ Clint cut him off with a hard kiss, hands sliding down Phil’s back to pull their hips together. Phil and Clint stumbled towards the couch set in the corner for spectators, but they didn’t make it before stumbling over their tangled feet. Phil managed to catch himself from falling flat out and Clint braced himself from landing on top of Phil, making them both laugh as they settled on the floor. “Graceful,” Phil commented and Clint leaned down, kissing the collarbone directly beneath his lips. Phil hummed and Clint wasted no time kissing down his chest, lips and tongue pausing to pay attention to the scar running down his chest. Phil closed his eyes and sank his fingers into Clint’s hair. “I love you,” he said and Clint looked catching his eyes. “I’m here, and I love you,” he said, knowing what Clint had to be thinking as he examined the scar on Phil’s chest.

Clint closed his eyes and nodded. “I know.” He opened his eyes and smirked, rocking their hips together. “Would be difficult to miss you being here,” he said pointedly, earning an eye roll. “Somebody sure doesn’t feel ‘old’ now, huh?”

Phil smirked and, in one smooth movement, flipped them over, pinning Clint to the floor. “Nah, hard to feel old like this,” he said, slowly grinding his hips down into Clint’s, groaning at the sensation and the way Clint’s eyes fluttered. He leaned down, kissing Clint and then trailing kisses down his throat as he reached between them to pull Clint’s sweats down his hips, taking the boxers with them. He continued his trek from Clint’s throat to his chest. He trailed his hands down Clint’s sides, nails scraping teasingly across his ribs as his tongue swirled around a nipple, eliciting a curse as Clint’s back arched and he grasped at Phil’s head and shoulder.

“Fuck,” he groaned, whining a little bit when Phil moved on, kissing and licking down Clint’s abs. He shivered and thumped Phil playfully when Phil licked around the rim of his navel before continuing over to run his tongue down the line of Clint’s hip as he looked up at Clint’s face. Clint’s eyes were blown so wide the blue was nearly entirely swallowed by his dilated pupils. Phil raked his nails down Clint’s muscular thighs. “Shit, _Phil_ ,” he moaned, gasping when Phil’s tongue ended at the crease of his thigh and Phil wasted no time at all shifting over and licking up Clint’s erection from base to tip. “Oh God.” Phil sucked him down, tongue curling over the head when he came up, only to pull off once more. “Nnngg, don’t,” Clint whined, but Phil just chuckled and crawled back up him, kissing Clint to shut him up. Clint pouted. “Tease.”

Phil quirked an eyebrow and rocked his hips into Clint’s, eliciting a stuttered moan. “Not a tease for changing my mind,” he whispered against Clint’s lips. Clint spread his legs and they both hissed as the shift lined their cocks up better so that when Clint arched, Phil groaned into his mouth. Phil braced himself on one elbow as he lowered their bodies completely flush, the other hand gripping at Clint’s hip as they met in a heated kiss. Clint’s hands grasped at Phil’s back and shoulders as he met Phil’s movements, their bodies moving perfectly in sync. Clint couldn’t help but think, as Phil’s tongue fucked into his mouth to match the rhythm of their bodies, that even if it had been a really long time since they had so much as touched in any manner that could be imagined as sexual, the long years they had been together made it feel like falling back into an old, familiar groove. Phil’s body, Phil’s mouth, Phil’s hands, it was all like they had never been gone from his. The way they fit together so perfectly after all those years made it feel like coming home.

“Oh God, Phil!” Clint gasped, arching hard as his legs curled around Phil, using the foot flat against the back of Phil’s leg to rock harder, his hands clinging so hard to Phil that his body bowed so tight virtually the only part of him still touching the floor was his shoulders and head. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ \- Phil!” he panted, head thrown back as his nails dug into Phil’s shoulders.

Phil grunted against his lips, kissing him sloppily. “God, you’re so beautiful. So fucking beautiful,” he breathed, fingertips of the arm not bracing him up digging into Clint’s hip so hard Clint would probably have fingertip bruises on his ass and hipbone the next day. He pressed Clint into the floor and let go of his hip, reaching between them to get a hand around their dicks. “You’re the most- Fuck! Most beautiful thing I’ve ever fucking seen,” Phil panted, looking down at the flush covering Clint’s neck, chest, and face. “ _Clint-_ -“ Phil cut himself off as he kissed Clint forcefully, tearing a muffled whine from Clint. “Come for me, Barton, c’mon-“

Clint broke the kiss with a broken whine, thrusting _hard_ into the hand Phil had around them. “Fuck I love you, oh _God_ I missed this so much, Phil-“ He kissed him sloppily, barely even getting his mouth before he threw his head back, letting out a strangled cry. “ _Phil!_ ” His shout died off as he came hard, face twisted into a silent scream as his orgasm robbed him of his voice. 

The sight of Clint coming underneath him, in his arms, brought Phil shuddering over the edge. “Fuck, fuck, Clint, so beautiful, _fuck_ ,” he cursed, kissing Clint hard as he thrust against Clint as he came down, slowing their movements until the last bit of pleasure began to settle into a low, happy thrum buzzing through their veins. Clint’s chest was still heaving as he fought for breath when Phil kissed him hard, sliding a hand down the leg Clint still had around him. Clint laughed into the kiss, sliding his hands to hold Phil’s head, laughter trailing off as their tongues danced together, eliciting soft moans and hums from them both. 

Clint let his head drop back to the floor with a thud and he groaned. “Oh God, I don’t think I can feel my legs,” he said and Phil laughed, resting his forehead against Clint’s chin. “I’m serious,” Clint said, smiling brightly. “I forgot you’re a sex-ninja. Your superpower is way cooler than Captain America’s any day,” he said and Phil laughed again, lifting himself up on his hands to look down at Clint, raising an eyebrow.

“My superpower is sex?” he asked and Clint smirked, nodding.

“Yep,” he said, lips popping on the ‘p’ sound. “And being really, really hot,” he added, his smile softening. “I needed that. I needed you to give me this.”

Phil gave him an amused look. “What, an orgasm?”

Clint shook his head, curling his hands around Phil’s forearms, turning to press his lips to the wrist closest to him. “A reminder that I’m not broken beyond repair. A reminder that someone still wants to love me, not just use me.”

Phil’s sharp intake of breath was followed by a gentle kiss. “You’re not broken, Barton.”

Clint smiled against his lips. “Nah, we’re all a little broken,” he argued, then met Phil’s eyes with nothing but love in them, no more pain, no more fear. “But I’m not too broken to still be the man you married. I’m not too broken to still be your husband. I’m not too broken for you to love me.”

Phil shook his head, pressing their foreheads together. “You’ll never be too broken for that. No matter what happens, no matter what we face – alone or together – you’re never going to be too broken for me to love you, Clint.”

Clint nodded, pecking his lips again. “I know that now,” he said calmly, curling his arms around Phil.

Phil huffed out an amused breath as he moved to hold Clint, kissing his forehead. “Good.”


End file.
